


Cops On Holiday

by melly_diamond, teecrushfic, thilia



Series: Good Cop, Bad Cop [2]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 80,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melly_diamond/pseuds/melly_diamond, https://archiveofourown.org/users/teecrushfic/pseuds/teecrushfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thilia/pseuds/thilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A department-ordered 'vacation' to the French Riviera winds up being more eventful than relaxing. Pink hair, waxes, big drinks and hot thieves make it a truly eventful month for Detectives Listing and Schäfer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone, Alone

Gustav was early to work – he didn't expect to see Georg till later, if at all, today. 

The twins had left last night for the States, and school, and while he was upset, the loss of Bill was… well, almost expected, in a way. Since the day Tom had told them he wanted to go to a culinary school in the US, Gustav had never doubted that Bill would go with him. And Gustav, being who and what he was, had never really expected this to last forever, anyway.

For once, his pessimistic nature had been more of a cushion than a pointy stick.

But Georg, he knew, was gutted – he loved Tom, and had thought it would be forever. FOREVER-forever.

He ran a hand through his hair, and stirred his coffee absently, smiling a little at the shaker of creamer labelled "Schäfarsenic – Not for the Kiddies" that Patty refilled regularly and left on his desk. 

He checked his departmental email, and then groaned and fell forward, his head in his hands; Patty was retiring.

Fuck, this day was gonna suck.

It did take some time for Georg to finally manage to drag himself out of bed, take a shower and make his way to work. When he arrived, he did not look happy. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before, and in his distress, hadn't even bothered to straighten his hair. 

His hair was _curly_ and _sproingy_ and did not reflect his mood at _all_.

He came into the office wordlessly and flopped down on his chair, sighing heavily. He glanced over at Gustav, then reached for a cigarette and lit it, wondering if he'd ever see Tom again. 

He frankly hadn't thought it would hit him this hard. He'd known for a while – months, actually – that Tom was going to study in the States. And Tom was a great cook – he had huge potential. Georg's reasonable side knew that he couldn't hold Tom back; he had to do something with his life. That was much more important than spending time with some jealous, possessive old cop. 

But the other part of him was feeling terribly pessimistic, which was usually not his nature. Only a few days ago, he'd been sure it would all be good. Tom would leave for school, come back during the holidays. They would talk on the phone, send each other romantic, sappy letters to tell each other how much they missed each other, and after three or however many years, Tom would graduate, come back to Germany, open his restaurant, and they would live happily ever after. 

But right now, Georg couldn't seem to make himself look on the bright side. He felt terrible and for once, couldn't hide it. 

He pressed his forehead against his desk for a long moment, then finally looked up at Gustav. "Sooo… please tell me we can just sit here and mope all day. Or maybe it would be better if we had a case. That would take my mind off this fucked up situation. So… which is it? Any news? Anything? Also, how are you doing?"

Gustav looked up from his perusal of Craigslist – he was looking for an ocelot and oddly enough, an ottoman, so was firmly stuck in the O's – and surveyed his partner.

He looked sad. Despondent. Depressed. Out of sorts. Down in the dumps.

But surprisingly springy!

He propped his chin up on his hand and looked at Georg. "I _was_ moping," he admitted. "Then I sighed a lot. Then I groaned. Then I spun in my chair until I almost threw up my hazelnut surprise. Then I started surfing the web for an ocelot, and here we are. There is no news. There is no spoon. And I feel like freeze-dried shit."

He paused. "You?"

Georg raised a brow and couldn't suppress a little grin; no matter how down he was, Gustav's randomness always made him feel better. 

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced, then reached for his cigarette and took a drag. "Pretty much the same, except... I did even less than you. I stayed in bed till noon, then _had_ to get up or my bladder would've exploded, which would've been very bad. I showered, got dressed, then came here."

Gustav waved the smoke away. "Dude, fan!" He pointed upwards, then stood to tug the string to make it spin faster.

"Sorry," Georg murmured, stubbing out his cigarette and deciding to try to wait until he was outside, which might take a while. Dammit.

Then Gustav dropped down into his seat again, but not before reaching over and tugging a curl. "Springy! You look adorable."

Georg rolled his eyes and groaned. "Yes, springy, and no, I look stupid. But thank you." He gave Gustav a little smile because he could tell that his friend meant it. 

"You do not look stupid," said Gustav firmly. "I personally love it when your hair is all curly and have said so many times over the years. I know you find it a pain in the ass so I don't push, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the few moments you let it be what it is."

Georg looked at Gustav and resisted the urge to hug him. For some reason, Gustav always knew what to say to him to make him feel better. Georg would probably always and forever hate his curls but the fact that Gustav thought he looked good no matter how crappy he actually _did_ look meant so much to him that he couldn't even express it. 

He leaned back and sighed. "So you're saying there's nothing for us to do? Ugh. I think you should take Josie and shoot someone. I need something to do. Seriously, I'll go crazy if I have to sit here all day, doing nothing."

Gustav sat down and watched Georg. "Josie thinks so too. She's despondent, trust me."

Just then, their captain stuck his head in with a sheet of paper. "There's been a murder at Striptease – you know, that naked hairdressing salon on Bulware? You two caught it, lucky you. Have fun."

He left again and Gustav looked down at the yellow paper. "Strip…tease is not a strip club. He hates us, doesn't he?"

Georg looked up at the captain, then turned to Gustav. "He does. He does hate us. He probably saw my hair when he came in, and it's just a big joke. Do you think that was his subtle way of telling me to get a haircut? And possibly, a real job?"

Gustav tilted his head. "You never know with Bender; he's a sociopath and wears a rug, so he's definitely jealous of the hair, but I don't think it was a message. Anyway, Tom would kill you."

Georg smiled, then sighed and pulled hair tie out of his pocket and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. "But hey, he did mention 'naked'. Maybe it's not so bad. AND it's a case. So let's get going."

Gustav sighed heavily when the tie came out. He was going to rid the world of elastics, ties, bread ties, ribbons, wire and anything else Georg could use to diminish the mane, as well as blow-dryers and that fucking straightening iron. He would prevail.

He stood up. "Let us. And hope that the girls are at least young and pretty, or older and pretty – like Kate Winslet. But with our luck, it will be a salon full of blue-hairs."

Georg gave him a little smile. "A salon full of Kate Winslets sounds good to me. But anyway – it's a case. At least we'll have something to do."

Gustav escorted Georg out to _his_ car – let Geo drive, even – and when they were on their way, pulled out a banjo.


	2. Murder at Strip-Tease

When Gustav pulled out his _banjo_ , of all things, Georg had to remind himself not to take his hands off the wheel to facepalm. "Dude. Where did that come from? Did you just pull that out of your ass or- what _is_ that anyway? A banjo? Dude."

He snorted, already feeling better. Five minutes in Gustav's company and it was like nothing had happened.

"Not quite," said Gustav cheerfully. "Although it looks like I did, hey? No, I wrote a song and wanted to swing it by you, see if it flowed, so to speak."

He tuned the banjo. "And yes, it is a banjo. Don't be jealous. I'm gonna buy you a set of triangles."

He tuned more, then began to sing.

_Met her on my CB  
Said her name was Mimi   
Sounded like an angel come to earth (come to earth) _

_When I went to meet her  
Man you shoulda seen her   
Twice as tall as me three times the girth (the girth) _

_Oh my fat baby loves to eat(loves to eat)  
A big ol' buddha-belly and her breasts swing past her feet(feet)   
My fat baby loves to eeeaaat   
My big old fat ass baby loves to eeeeat!_

Whenever Georg sat next to Gustav in the car, it was hard to focus on the road. But when he sang a song like that… Georg almost had to pull over because he was cracking up and his bad mood from only a few minutes ago was completely gone. 

"You have too much free time," he informed Gustav when he was done, but then gave him a grin. "You're a dork, seriously, but…" He laughed. "I love it."

Gustav listened to Georg laugh, and it made him laugh too – he couldn't help it. Georg's laugh was totally infectious.

"I do," he agreed, setting the banjo back in the back seat. "But it's better than getting high. Or, well, somewhat better. I touch more people this way."

Gustav leaned back in his seat, then reached over to tug a wayward curl as Georg took the corner onto Bulware Street and pulled up to Strip-Tease.

"True," Georg said, giving him a grin as he parked the car. Then he raised a brow and turned to him, giving him a little smile. "You have an unhealthy obsession with curls – you do know that, right?"

"I know, but only with _your_ curls. Others, including my own? Pffft."

Georg smiled and shook his head, then sighed as he got out of the car and stretched. "So… a murder, he said? That should be interesting."

He placed a hand on Gustav's back and led him into the entrance of the salon.

Gustav looked around; there were two other squad cars already, so he knew the information was already being collected.

He and Georg entered tentatively and looked around. It looked like a relatively normal salon, which was comforting, and then…

"Are you the detectives? I'm Louise, I own this place."

Gustav turned around, only to find a naked woman standing there. Completely naked, and gravity had deserted her.

Fortunately, he would think later, her nipples covered her bush, so it was only when she moved suddenly that he got a glimpse of the Hanging Gardens of Louisealon.

Gustav had been experimenting with catchphrases, and in this important moment, settled on his new one. 

“Have mercy.”

For a long moment, Georg was stunned and tried not to stare – but he couldn't help it! A naked hair salon. Trust them to get to investigate a murder that had happened at a naked hair salon. It was just their luck.

He cleared his throat and patted Gustav on the back lightly, then tried to focus on the _murder_ , not the… uh, nudity. 

"Yes, we're the detectives. I’m Listing, and this is my partner Detective Schäfer. Why don't you tell us what happened?"

Louise seemed not only used to being stared at, but seemed to encourage that – why, Gustav didn't know, but…

She explained that she had been about to mix up some color and had gone into the closet for a towel, finding her shampoo girl naked – of course – and gagged with a box of SFX atomic red.

Curious.

Georg wrinkled his nose, then pulled out his notebook and started taking notes, writing down the names of all the suspects and people who'd been at the salon that day. It would probably take a while before they'd interrogated them all. Georg wondered if Gustav already had an idea who the murderer could be – he was good at that and usually found out who it was instinctively. They dismissed Louise for now and moved over to the body. 

Georg nudged Gustav. "Any ideas yet?"

Gustav was pondering and walking around the closet – which was a walk-in – examining the goods. He was glad Georg was so organized, 'cause he was usually flying by the seat of his pants.

"Someone didn't care for her being a blonde," said Gustav wisely. "Other than that, I'm still ruminating."

Georg snorted but nodded, then looked at the body. The killer seemed to have killed the only more or less good-looking woman in the shop. What was wrong with people anyway?

He took a few more notes, and when he was sure he had everything, he turned back to Gustav. "We need to ask everyone a few questions… together, or should we split up to get it done faster?"

"Sadly, we should split up and then play switch. Not _that_ kind of switch though. You know what I mean. But you ask serious, probing questions, and I'll be me, and that should confuse the fuck out of _someone_."

Gustav nodded wisely, then sauntered over to the receptionist and started talking, then gesturing, and then broke into a little soft-shoe routine that had the receptionist – who was in her late hundreds, easy – clapping.

Georg watched Gustav for a while, snorting to himself, then made his way over to a customer who had been there at the time of the murder. 

After about an hour of questioning every single person who'd been present at the time of the murder, they still didn't know much more than they had before. No one seemed to have witnessed anything and most people replied a little too vaguely for Georg's taste. He did have his notes, though, so maybe he and Gustav could look them over later and come to a conclusion together. 

He ran into Gustav after they'd both interrogated the last person, and raised a brow. "So? Anything?"

"Well…" Gustav consulted his notes, then winced. "These boots are made for walking, not dancing, that's for damn sure and life is not a cabaret my friend."

He sighed and shifted from foot to foot. "I'm leaning towards Louise, to be honest. She's territorial as all hell; this girl was way hotter than she was, and therefore competition. Also, their only male stylist – appropriately named Lorenzo, do you love it? – left last week under less than happy circumstances. I'm thinking there was hanky with both pankies, and Louise found out."

He looked the patrons over and shuddered. "I might never watch porn again, seriously."

Georg's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? Louise is my suspect number one, too."

He grinned. "Usually I'm so wrong about potential killers – unless I consult my hair about it – that this is something major, dude."

Gustav smiled. "That's because you're awesomely intelligent, despite your boy-band appearance. And your psychic hair is the envy of all, which is the _other_ reason I'm getting you out of here. The staff keeps eyeing it, like they have _ideas_ , and no."

Georg grinned, after petting his hair protectively. "Okay, so, how should we go about this? We force her into clothes and take her to the station for further investigation?"

Gustav looked around and nodded. "Yes, Granny needs to holster her boobs and come along with us."

He turned to a uniform and told her to get Louise of the Jungle dressed and bring her down to the precinct. "I don't want her in the car with us, Jesus."

Georg wrinkled his nose. "No, I don't want her in our car either. What if she refuses to put on clothes? I don't want that ass and stuff on our back seat. Ew."

"Eww, old lady ass. Dude, thanks for the image."

Gustav felt vaguely ill at the very thought, but at least he wasn't thinking about twins. With his luck, LOUISE would have a similarly fugly twin. Ugh.

"Sorry." Georg grinned. 

"You're not. You never are. If you can make me grimace, you're only too happy to go with it."

Georg snickered and they left the salon as fast as they could, and made their way back to the car. 

"I'm hungry," he said as he got into the passenger seat; he didn't feel like driving. "Can we get something to eat?"

In the car, Gustav was only too happy to drive. "Me too. How does Szechuan Jim's sound to you? They have sake!"

Georg nodded. "Sure, sounds good. Sake is always good."


	3. Sake And Nudism

Gustav started the car and pulled out into traffic – oddly enough, coke had made him a _better_ driver. He hoped at least that effect was still around.

Georg grinned and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. He was silent as Gustav started to drive, then glanced over at him. 

"Thank you," he said quietly, hoping Gustav knew what it was about.

Gustav looked over at Georg. "You're welcome, Geo. It's gonna be tough, but we'll get through it together."

Georg nodded. "I know. Still… thank you. Three words from you and I'm smiling. Not everyone can do that."

"True – I should clone myself." Gustav nodded, grinning. 

Georg laughed. "You should! I could take one of you home and would have 24/7 entertainment."

"I think there should be a Gustav in every home," Gustav agreed. "Who would need TV or video games? I mean, really."

Georg grinned. "Exactly! You should consider that. You could earn a lot of money."

"I will have to consider it," Gustav agreed. He reached over without taking his eyes off the road and stole the cigarette from Georg's fingers, and took a drag. "Who wants to live forever, right?"

Georg smiled, then snorted. "This is, as I recall, the second time you've asked that question."

He stole the cigarette back. "You shouldn't. You've been doing such a great job – don't let me get you started again."

Gustav laughed. "I know, right? It's like my go-to phrase these days."

He let Georg have the cigarette back. "You're right – I mean, if I can survive a skinny, chain smoking fashionista hanging off me, I suppose I can resist you."

He pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and parked. "Just let me know when a little banjo magic can get you going."

Georg smiled and nodded. "I will, I promise."

He looked up. "Are we going in or do you want takeaway?" He paused. "Let's go in. I need a break."

He snorted. "We've worked for about an hour and I need a break. Jesus…"

Gustav got out and then went around to help Georg out, before nodding. "Naked old ladies _are_ stressful – just ask my gramma. Did I tell you she and Opa joined a nudist colony? In Monaco, no less; it’s naked junk 24/7 there."

He paused. "They want us to come for Christmas."

Gustav regarded his tired partner, and then picked him up, throwing him over his shoulder and walking in, asking for a booth.

Georg blinked at the sudden attack. "Wha- Hey!"

He considered struggling, then decided that he was extremely comfortable and that he had a nice view of Gustav's ass – so why protest? He sighed happily and waved at the waitress as they walked past her. "Hi!"

Gustav smiled at the waitress and she laughed as she showed them to their favorite booth. They were regulars.

Gustav set Georg down and slid him onto the bench opposite him, then sat down. "Can we get a pitcher of water, a pot of tea and two shots of sake?"

Georg smiled up at the waitress and ran a hand through his hair, then looked up again when she was back with their drinks.

Gustav took a sip of water, and watched Georg flirt – he must be feeling better. Excellent.

Georg finally turned back to Gustav. "So, a nudist colony in Monaco?" He cracked up. "Great. Your family is – if possible – even more nuts than you. I love it."

Gustav sighed. "And you are so coming to Monaco for Christmas, because dude, I cannot do this alone. If I have to play chess with Opa and know he is swingin' low under the table, I might go insane."

Georg snorted. "Sure. I have nothing but time, so I'd love to come with you. That's what we should do, dude. Next time we have a few days off, we should travel. Go somewhere cool. Somewhere unexpected."

He paused. "Will I be expected to be naked too, in Monaco?"

Gustav grinned. "We should, you know that? Just skive off for a while. Let's do that. And yes, you'll have to be. If we go at Christmas, we can help Opa win the presidency of the condo board there. One look at you naked and half his competition will die off of lust."

Georg smiled. "We really should. We'll see if we can take a couple of weeks off soon and then we will do that."

He was already looking forward to it. 

Then he had to laugh. "Oh God… well. I'd love to help, however I can."

He grinned and sipped some water as well.

Gustav laughed too, and then poured them some tea. "Did I tell you my brother got a vagina tattooed above his dick?" Gustav's tone was conversational. "He's taken up cross-dressing and figures if he tapes up his dick, then he can still flash people. My mum says it's pretty realistic."

The waitress came back in time to hear that, and had to step away to snort several times before taking their order.

Georg grinned. "He did? Oh god. I need to see this. Is he gonna be there? Naked? Cause I really do need to see that."

He laughed, then glanced up at the waitress and snorted. "Sorry. But you're used to our unusual topics, aren't you?"

He grinned, then opened the menu, wanting to try something different – but ended up ordering the usual again.

The waitress _did_ know them, and patted Gustav's shoulder. "It's nice to see you back, detective," she said sweetly, then took their order and sashayed off.

Gustav looked after her. "Sweet," he said, then sighed. "Did you see the email? Patty's RETIRING. How can that happen? What will I do? Who will take my calls and chat with Mavis? Who will pad my expense reports? Who will talk to my mother for half an hour while I'm in the john?"

Georg looked up, his eyes wide. "What? I didn't check my emails… she's retiring? How can she be retiring? And how can she inform us about that by email? That's just…"

He paused. "It's a joke. It has to be a joke. I mean, we're practically BFFs; she wouldn't just send us an impersonal email about something important like this."

He sipped some water. "Would she?"

"It came from El Capitaine, the Rug Doctor," sighed Gustav. "She wasn't in today. Probably couldn't take the sound of sobbing all day."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm gonna call her later – and I know, right? She loves us!"

Gustav pondered a moment. "What if she goes to Monaco and becomes a nudist?"

Georg pouted for a long moment, then raised a brow. "What if she does? Frankly, I'm pretty sure Patty would look pretty awesome for her age."

He grinned, then leaned back. "Being a nudist would be awesome. I may contemplate becoming one."

He raised his glass. "To nudism!"

Gustav was impressed: Georg hadn't even flinched. That was his partner.

He grinned too, and wiggled a brow. "She might look pretty damn good at that. You never know with that woman." He sighed. "I love her, Georg. If it weren't for the fact that she'd demand sex and roleplaying with whips and large furniture, I would marry her."

Georg smiled. "I know you would, baby. And you would be a perfect match – if it wasn't for the kinky sex."

"I'm all for kinky sex, just not with women. And I think Patty could horrify even me in any number of ways – that woman is a piece of work."

Gustav grinned fondly. "I really love her – I can't imagine our department without her. And her snickerdoodles… dear fuck, her snickerdoodles. Damn."

"She is. She's brilliant and it won't be the same without her. But maybe we can talk to her and convince her to retire when we do." Georg smiled.

Gustav laughed. "That might be a few years from now, but hey, we can make it worthwhile for her if she stays. We need to plot."

Gustav raised his glass. "But yes, to nudism. If you went naked, it would do wonders for the whole movement, though – not to add that it would _create_ movement in a lot of guys' pants. So cheers!"

Georg grinned, then raised his glass as well. "Cheers to that! And so would you, by the way. Start movement in guys' pants, I mean."

He wiggled his brows, then took a sip when their food arrived.

Gustav took a deep swig of water, then had to laugh. "Me naked is just another naked guy in the shvitz bath… YOU naked is cause for bowing and prayer rugs being rolled out."

He eyed his food. "Okay, now for the sake! Salut!"

Georg grinned, smiling at the description of him naked – Gustav was sweet.

"Thank you… and yes, sake. On the job. Again. But I guess it's okay as long as we don't drink more than this."

He and Georg both took their sake and downed it with practiced ease – the sake would be soaked up by their noodles. "Nah, we're fine. Eat up, partner."

Georg gave him a grin, then nodded and started eating, sighing softly. Then he looked at Gustav, wondering if he would moan down the restaurant again today. Because this food was definitely moan-worthy.

Gustav caught the look. "You're wondering how much I will embarrass your curly-haired self today, aren't you? Fear not. I have toned down my many excesses and am now a model of… something. A Star Destroyer maybe, or the Mystery Machine – one of the two."

He smiled into his food – he figured he'd give Geo a break.

It wasn't that he didn't miss Bill – he did. But he also knew Bill needed to find his own way in life – he was still young, still a baby, really. And Gustav wouldn't stand in his way. He would miss the conversations, the pliable soft body wrapped around him in bed, the cuddles and snuggles. But if they were meant to be, they'd find each other again.

He had to believe that. He didn't know what Georg believed or what Tom had told him. He'd never much warmed to Tom, but thought he'd done a pretty good job hiding it, overall.

Georg grinned and shook his head. "I don't know if I'm happy about that or not. The moaning always amused me. But yeah."

"I know, but I figured I'd save it for a time when you really, really needed the moaning to make it through."

Georg smiled and finished eating a short time later, leaning back. "Mmmh, that was good. So… back to work in a bit. We'll interrogate Louise, and then… I don't know. I want an early night, today, if we can make it. Maybe we can hang out tonight, if you want? We could hang out at your place, get drunk, mope, the usual?"

Gustav wondered if it would be bad form to lick his plate, and thought it probably would be, alas. So he settled for mopping up every bit of sauce he could, until his plate was bare, even the design was missing.

"Oh man, that was good for my soul," he sighed, leaning back and petting his belly, which was back. "Yea and verily."

He rubbed the back of his neck and finished his tea. "So, we break the old woman, find Lorenzo, break him, find out what the little plan was and then – then we can go home and drink. Sounds good to me." 

Georg grinned. "Perfect. Now I need coffee to make it through the rest of the day, and then we can go."

He nodded, waved the waitress to them and ordered coffees for both of them. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent at work, questioning and interrogating their suspects. Even though Georg and Gustav were both a little upset about their twins being gone, they managed to crack Louise and Lorenzo in no time, and got them to confess everything. 

They clearly still rocked.


	4. Beer And Sympathy

At Gustav's, Georg flopped down on the couch tiredly, stretching. He loved that couch and was very glad he'd bought it. It was his second home, and might become his _first_ home, now that Tom was gone. 

He put his feet on the table and looked up at Gustav, giving him an adorable pout. "Bring me a beer, pleeeease? I can't possibly get up now that I'm on that fabulous couch."

Gustav watched Georg make himself at home and had to grin – he was cute when he was pouty. And worse, Georg knew it.

He brought them both beers – the one thing neither one of them could live without – and sat down beside him, wiggling his toes. He had on Fozzie Bear socks.

"To us being sincerely awesome, and stuff." He was going to say "unavoidably single," but didn't want to upset his partner.

Georg beamed. "Thank you! You're the best."

Then he raised a brow. "To being awesome? Not your best toast, my friend." He snorted but sipped some beer anyway.

"I know, I know. I'm fading in my old age," sighed Gustav. "Pretty soon I'll start wearing ties to work and actually fill out my paperwork correctly, in regulation black ink. I can see it coming."

Georg snorted. "If that happens, I'm going to… I don't know. I'll bring you back. You can't change like that. It'd be depressing."

"Wouldn't it though? Even loud sport jackets couldn't save the day, and I'm not dapper enough to pull off a real suit, so I might be fucked either way."

"Hmmm," Georg said thoughtfully. "I think you'd look sexy in a suit. No tie, though, just a shirt, half-open, pants and a jacket… that would look hot on you."

"Well, maybe when I eventually make captain, I'll dress up – but first, I'm going to institute a Hawaiian shirt theme for all." Gustav nodded, then snorted at the thought of ever making captain – he didn't kiss enough ass, never had, never would. But he could dream.

Georg laughed. "That would be cool."

"I know, right? I'd make you wear a grass skirt as my second in command." Gustav nodded and sipped at his beer.

Georg stretched, then sighed as he leaned back. "Today was both uneventful and exhausting."

Gustav stretched and put a hand behind his head. "This feels good," he said. "A little weird, but good."

Georg turned his head and looked at him curiously. "What feels weird?"

He leaned back and sighed. "Do you miss Bill at all? You seem so… okay. What's your secret?"

Gustav sighed heavily and took a swig of beer, then looked over at Georg. "Of course I miss him, dude, but…"

He pondered, trying to figure out how to say this. 

"I love Bill," he said softly. "But I also loved someone else and he was… well, not literally taken from me, cause I obviously misinterpreted everything, but it felt like that. And I dealt with the loss – badly, yes, but I dealt with it. And in little bits and pieces, I learned how to pull it back together and understand that while you want love to be forever, sometimes it's just not."

He took another sip. "I know that Bill loves me. But he needs to grow up, too. And if he grows up and still loves me, great. And if he doesn't, well, I'll live. Eventually, someone will love _me_ enough to want to be with me forever. I have to believe that."

Georg listened to all of this, biting his lip. "You know," he said softly. "That's a great way to look at it. But it's just…" He sighed. "It's like I can't be positive about this. I have a feeling I already know Tom's not going to come back – I mean, I'm literally the only thing he has here. And as long as he has Bill, he's happy. So if they decide to stay there, if he opens his restaurant in the States, then, well, then I'll never see him again. We can't have a long distance relationship forever. It'd be too hard for both of us. So that means I have to get over him and…" He sighed. "It'll take a while. And I was so glad to finally have someone I'm really in love with, so it's… yeah."

He trailed off, wondering if it was the booze or just his brain that was making it hard to summarize his feelings. 

"Maybe it's stupid to stay together in the first place," he said softly. "Maybe a clean cut would be better for everyone involved."

Gustav watched Georg, listening and turning his beer bottle around in his hands. "Well, only you can make that decision," he said finally. "We hooked up with brothers who are closer than blood, closer than anything I've ever seen. They really, in the end, only need each other. I saw that in rehab. No matter how much Bill wanted me, he wanted, needed Tom more. I got used to it, and frankly, any love was good love at that point. That probably makes me sound like a real bastard, but… I'd had the love of my life already. You hadn't."

Georg nodded; he knew very well how close Bill and Tom were. "We did, yes," he said softly. "And maybe… maybe they're IT for each other. I don't – I mean, I love Tom, and I love Bill. I get that they belong together. But on the other hand, I really want someone who just wants me. I want to come first for someone, and…"

He trailed off and looked at him as he realized what Gustav had said. "Love of your life?"

He licked his lips, then looked down, thinking. 

"Of course you want to come first for someone – isn't that what love is? That you mean more to someone than anything?"

Gustav looked back at Georg calmly, not surprised when Georg looked down. 

His voice was calm. "If you are really in love with Tom, then why didn't you go with him?"

Georg was rubbing some foam off his glass and shrugged. "Well, what would I do in the US? I would have to do the whole police training again 'cause they have a different system, and… well – because of you."

He looked up at him, then realized that he and Tom were actually quite similar. While he loved Tom more than almost anything, Gustav still came first.

"Well, you could learn to surf, become a top model, rollerblade everywhere, go to Disney World, get a job as Snow White, get a monkey and a cup… you could do lots of things. And hell, there must be nut jobs in the US you could partner with."

Georg shook his head. "Nah. Remember? I don't want a different partner. If I was moving somewhere else, you'd have to come with me."

"Pffft, I'm too much of a stoic German boy to live anywhere else. Where would I get knockwurst like the kind down on Springen St., hmmm?"

Georg gave him a smile, then slid down on the couch and sighed, shaking his head. "Well, there you have it. I'll stay here with you. I don't think the US would be for me, to be honest. New York, maybe, but the rest… nah. I don't think I could live in a huge city like that anyway. I like it right here, with you, on your couch, with good German beer."

Gustav looked over at Georg and felt a pang of sympathy for him. "Well, maybe you can go visit him when they get settled. Maybe you'll like it there after all. You can get your own super-cool couch and I'll send you cases of beer."

Georg looked at him with a smile and shook his head. "Then I still wouldn't have you, Gustav. I need you, remember?"

He slid an arm around him and leaned against him, sighing. "I think I'll call him sometime this week to discuss our future. I love him, I want him but I can't help feeling that there's no point in torturing ourselves for months when we're going to break up anyway."

"Yeah, yeah yeah." Gustav smiled and leaned against him. "It's your choice, Geo – you two might be meant to be, you never know, but… it's up to you."

Georg nodded. "I know. I'll think about it."

Gustav kissed the top of Georg's curly head, and then grumbled and pulled the tie out of Georg's hair. "My curls," he said authoritatively, winding one around his finger and letting it spring back.

Georg leaned against Gustav, smiling when he started playing with his curls. He liked having his hair petted and played with. He drank his beer silently, and felt that it was working. Or maybe it was Gustav's presence that made him feel lightheaded and drunk; he didn't know.

Georg turned his head and sighed into Gustav's neck… then sniffed. "New cologne?"

"Jack Daniels," said Gustav cheerfully. "I switch off between this and Johnny Walker Red on alternate days. I figure if I start _out_ smelling like I've had a few, then I can't be busted later." He nodded, then smoothed more curls, making a braid.

Georg grinned. "Well, it smells good. And are you braiding my hair? Jesus…"

"Yes, yes I am. I could do an entire French braid circlet like you were a little milkmaid, but I'll settle for just a few little braids here and there. Maybe I'll stick a flower in them."

Georg smiled and kept his eyes closed as his head continued spinning a little. After a moment, he looked up at Gustav and bit his lip, then brushed his fingertips over Gustav's chin and tilted his head down, pressing his lips against Gustav's.

Gustav blinked when Georg touched his chin, and then froze when he was kissed.

Well, his body froze as his brain screamed _No no no! not again!_

He pulled back gently. "Geo, you're drunk," he said softly. "You don't want to kiss me – I'm not Tom."

Georg looked at him, swallowing hard. "I know you're not Tom," he said softly. "I want this. I want…"

He looked into Gustav's eyes and sat up abruptly, rubbing his face. "But it's not fair to you or Tom and I can't just go around kissing people. Fuck, I'm such an asshole sometimes."

He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "Maybe I should just go home and stay in bed for the next few months. I obviously can't be around people without doing something incredibly stupid."

He glanced over at him. "I'm sorry."

"Geo, you're not an asshole. You miss your boyfriend and you love him. That doesn't make you anything but a guy who's in pain."

Gustav rubbed his back. "No, you're not gonna do that. You're going to fight crime with your loyal sidekick, and decide what to do about Tom, and now and then, we'll have a few beers and crash out on this couch."

He touched his cheek. "Don't be sorry, Hagen. It's just that I couldn't have you – or think I did – and lose you again. I almost didn't make it back from the edge the first time."

Georg looked at him. "I know. I know, Gustav, and I'm sorry. I really am. I just…"

He sighed and rubbed his face, deciding not to say anything about the fact that Gustav was an amazing kisser and that Georg sometimes still thought about the amazing sex they'd had. But he knew it couldn't happen again. It was because of that that Gustav had withdrawn completely and started doing coke. He couldn't risk doing that to his friend again. So as much as he needed comfort sex or a kiss right now, he just… wouldn't. 

"It won't happen again. I promise. I won't hurt you like that again, even unconsciously."

"I know, love. I do know. And it was all a long time ago now."

Georg sighed and leaned against him again. "Is this okay, though? I think I need cuddles."

Gustav rubbed Georg's back and smoothed his hair, then smiled. "Come here."

The couch was deep and wide enough so that two people could sit in a row, and stretch out on the ottoman. He got Georg situated between his legs – with a pillow against his crotch, to avoid temptation – and pulled Georg in to cuddle and hug.

And yes, to play with his hair, which Gustav did.


	5. Phone Calls

It had been a while since Georg had heard from Tom. A couple of weeks, maybe, but it felt longer. In the first month, they'd talked almost every day. In the second month, they’d spoken every week. And now – well, it was slowly getting less and Georg found himself wondering if Tom was just busy with school and Bill, or if he'd met someone else. 

They still hadn't discussed their future and Georg finally wanted to get that probably awkward discussion out of the way.

When he called that night, he was prepared for whatever he was going to hear. Or so he thought. 

"Hey baby, do you have time for me?"

"Hey," replied Tom, sounding distracted, 'cause he was. "Hey, sure, I just have to… get this off and… move this and… fuck, BILL! Get your shit off the couch, will you?"

Finally, he sat down with the phone. "Hi you – what’s up?"

Georg listened, then leaned back and drank a sip of wine. He was on his own couch, planning to go back to Gustav's if Tom broke up with him… or Georg with Tom… or if this conversation just made him sad. Actually, he might also go to Gustav's if everything turned out to be all right.

"Nothing, really," Georg said, sipping. "I just missed you and we haven't talked in two weeks, so… How's school?"

"Are you talking to Georg?" Bill asked in the background. "I should call Gustav. I've been meaning to but I've been swamped with homework… I know, I know, I'll leave you alone! God, if looks could kill…"

Tom waved to Bill, a wave that meant, "Just go and do something, willya?"

The door closed and Georg raised a brow. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, school is fine, busy as hell and all that. And I'm sorry I haven't called, dude, but between the time differences and school, it's been hard."

Georg nodded. "I get that. You should focus on your studies, no problem. So is the school still what you thought it would be? How's your English? Meeting people? Tell me everything."

"School is actually really brilliant," said Tom, settling in amongst all Bill's crap. "The classes are interesting and my English is getting much better. I'm even getting an accent, see?"

He smiled, giving Georg an example.

Georg smiled; Tom's enthusiasm was infectious. "I'm glad to hear that. You were brilliant already, so I can't imagine how great you'll be with some professional training. And you do have a slight accent. I'm impressed."

Tom shifted. “I know, right? I’m good. So what about you? I mean, I'm going to class, taking a couple of cooking classes locally to get used to basics like boning – no joke – and cuts of meat, all that crap. And of course, there’s regular school, and keeping Bill in line."

Georg smiled as he listened to Tom, then nodded. "I'm all right. I miss you, work is boring mostly, and I hang out with Gustav a lot, so the usual. You're the one with the exciting life now." He smiled a little. 

"Awww, thanks – no, I think I might have found my thing, you know? My calling, like you being a cop."

"It is your calling," Georg agreed. "I have no doubt about it. And I'm glad you discovered your passion and are pursuing it."

Tom listened to Georg, feeling like a shit for leaving him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can tell you're lonely and this is my fault."

Georg shook his head. "Tom, don't. It's not your fault. It's just bad timing, you know? I met you when you were finishing high school and figuring out your life, and well, this was always going to happen. I could've asked you to stay here for me but I didn't want to do that. I want you to be happy and I can tell that being a cook will make you happy. And I'm okay with this, really. I'm lonely sometimes, but I try not to be."

"Yeah, I do know."

Tom took a deep breath – he'd been thinking about all this now for a while. "I love you," he said softly. "But I don't want you to be lonely. I know you want a relationship that's all about you and the person you love and I'm – I'm not really giving you that anymore, am I? I want _you_ to be happy, Georg…"

Georg was silent for a long moment. "I want you to be happy too," he said softly, then sighed. "I don't know, Tom. I've been thinking about this too. I don't want to lose you but… being on two different continents makes keeping up a relationship really hard. I know you're busy with school, and stuff, and I don't blame you for anything. You're young; you should focus on your future. It was bad timing but…"

He bit his lip. "I love you," he said softly. "I'm not ready to let you go, but at the same time I think I maybe should."

He didn't sound happy at all, but knew that it was probably the right thing.

Tom swallowed hard; he'd known this was coming, had even imagined how it would go, but now that the moment was here, he missed Georg as though he'd just let go of him at the airport. "I'm not ready either," he whispered into the phone. "You're the first love I've ever known and you are… I love you."

He took a deep, shaky breath, wishing he could smoke, but it had been months now, and he was going to stay strong and not slip. He sounded like he was going to cry – because he was. 

"I… I still want to know about you, how you are and… send me emails, sometimes? Cause I don't ever wanna not know you."

Georg looked down. "As weird as it sounds; you're my first love too, Tomi. And I will always love you; trust me, I will. It's just… I don't want to break up. But at the same time, I'm afraid that you'll meet someone else; someone better. Someone _there_. And I know I shouldn't be afraid of that because I trust you. But it's still… I couldn't blame you if you did find someone, you know?"

He sighed. "This is really hard. My brain is telling me to let you go but I'm not sure I'm ready. But… yes, I definitely want to know what's going on with your life." He smiled a little. "I'm pretty sure I'll know that even if we don't stay in touch because you'll be a famous cook; probably on TV and everything…"

He smiled. "But yes. I will send you emails. I promise."

He paused. "Fuck, I wish I was there with you."

Tom was crying now. "There can't be anyone better than you," he sniffled. "That's just not possible. And I have no… wish, interest in anyone new. I'm just so busy I don't even know where I am half the time. I miss you. I wank over your pictures and memories all the time and it kills me to not be with you."

He sniffled more. "You better keep in touch and I wish you were here too. You have no idea."

Georg sighed inwardly and rubbed his face. "Baby, don't cry. I can barely hold it together as it is. If you…" He trailed off and bit his bottom lip. "It kills me not to be with you too. But maybe it was meant to be like this. And love, if we are meant to be together, then we'll get back together."

He sighed. "I've never tried to break up with someone I actually love, and… fuck, all the reasons to do it seem stupid now. I don't want to break up with you. I want you here with me, but that doesn't work either."

He bit his lip, lighting a cigarette. 

"I'm sorry," sobbed Tom, who couldn't help it. But he did try to stop long enough to speak. "I hope so," he whispered. "I hope that's how it is."

He had to take a moment. "I don't want to either, but… I can't be there right now. You can't be here, and it's not fair to you. It's not."

"It's not fair to you either, baby. It's just…" Georg sighed softly. "If I knew you'd be back in a year, it would be different. But this is like – there's no deadline, so to speak. I don't know if you'll come back at all, you know? Maybe you'll come back when you're done with your studies, but maybe you'll stay there, open your restaurant, and I'm just…"

He sighed again. "Tomi…"

Tom listened. "Georg," he sighed back. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what will happen."

He wiped his eyes. "I love you. I don't know what else to say. I don't know when I'll be back and you're lonely and I…"

"I am lonely," Georg said, nodding. "I mean, I have Gustav but I am lonely. But no one except you can make that loneliness go away. So, I don't know. I don't know what to do either."

He paused for a moment. "Maybe we should do that email thing. Write down our thoughts and communicate like that for a while. I'll miss your voice, but…"

Tom flopped back on the couch – and Bill's straightening iron bonked him on the head, making him curse and throw it across the room.

He felt terrible. He felt like going into the bathroom and strangling himself with Bill's rhinestone collar.

"I guess so," he said finally. "Maybe that would be best."

He couldn't quite manage to keep the tears out of his voice. "I'll… I'll send you an email soon, okay? I can't really make any sense anymore."

He took a breath. "I love you. I'm sorry."

Then he hung up, tossed his phone on the table, and cried.

When Georg hung up, he stared at the phone, not sure what had just happened. He'd been sure Tom had met someone else, or that Tom was the one who wanted to break up with him. Now, he'd somehow managed to be the bad guy again. How did he do that?

He stared at his cigarette and sighed, not sure what to do now.

***

In the room next to Tom's, Bill finally pulled out his phone and dialled Gustav's number. He missed him but school had made it impossible to stay up all night to talk to Gustav. Besides, Gustav was probably busy as well. 

He pressed his phone against his ear, smiling when it clicked. "Gustiii!"

Gustav hadn't heard from Bill in almost a month – he knew Bill had forgotten all about him and was involved in whatever – another guy, back to blow, fucking his brother…

He had a feeling that was _definitely_ going on.

He had just gotten out of the shower when his phone went off – Bill's Ringtone, "Brick House." He found it amusing, cause Bill was more of a flagpole than a brick house, but whatever.

"Billi!" He smiled into the phone. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Bill said with a smile; he was always happy to hear Gustav's voice. "School is stressful; even more than I thought, and our flat is a PIT. You have no idea. And of course Tom says it's my fault but whatever. You know how he is."

He grinned. "How are you? Any cool cases? Oh, and sorry I haven't called much, baby. I've just been really busy and time zones are complicated. Maybe I should just email sometimes instead. But anyway… how are you?"

"Honey, I've seen your room – I have to side with Tom. And yeah, a case here and there; I'm keeping busy. I understand you've got a lot going on, it’s fine.”

Bill smiled and paused for a moment. "You sound naked. Are you naked?"

Bill's voice made Gustav miss him, and he grinned. "Yes, I just got out of the shower, so I am, indeed naked. You?"

Bill grinned. "Ha! I have an ear for that sort of thing, see? Mmm… now I'm imagining you naked."

Gustav laughed. "When are you not imagining me naked? I mean, 'cause I'm so hot."

Bill smiled and flopped down on his bed – after shoving a few things off it. Maybe Tom and Gustav were right and he really was the source of all evil. Hmm.

"I've been a really shitty boyfriend, haven't I?" he asked softly. "I miss you at least once every day, though. You're always in my head, and pretty much everything here reminds me of you. Are you lonely? You're hanging out with Georg a lot, right? I just don't want you to hang out alone at home. You know that's bad for people like us."

He smiled, rolling onto his side and almost hugging the phone.

Gustav rubbed his head with the towel. "You're not shitty – you're busy. In a new country, with a new language, school, getting acclimated. And Bill, I've always hung out at home. It's no biggie. Sometimes Geo and I hang out but he's mopey. I've started taking Tai Jitsu though. Kicking ass, not taking names, though; high-kicking and writing don’t mix."

Bill raised a brow. "Seriously? Okay, that's sexy too. Anything you do or say sounds sexy today – and always."

Gustav grinned into the phone. "You're being exceptionally sweet today, my love."

Bill smiled, then was silent for a long moment. "I've actually been thinking a lot about us, Gusti. You and me, I mean. And I haven't really come to a conclusion but I just want you to know that… I want you to be happy. This long-distance thing isn't easy; and it's going to get harder, the longer we have to do it. I mean, a phone call per month isn't exactly a relationship. So I've just been thinking about it a lot."

He paused. "Do you think we should break up? Don't get me wrong, okay? You know I love you, and I really do think about you every day. I doubt I'll meet someone else here; at least not someone I'll love as much as I love you. But like I said, I've just been thinking about this long distance thing, and… I wanted to hear your thoughts about it."

Gustav listened, knowing what was coming. "I've been thinking about it too – I love you, and I know you love me, and missing you is hard. I think about you too, and God… I don't know."

He chose his words carefully. "I think that maybe right now is not the best time for us. You have a whole new life and country to adjust to, and I'm here, doing what I do. If we are really meant to be, we will be, just maybe in the future."

He sighed. "You might meet someone else – don't close yourself off for me. Long distance is hard, and… shit, I don't even know what I'm saying."

Bill nodded. "I know. That's what I was thinking, too. It's not the right time, somehow. I think it's just…" He paused to think. "I think we should break up. Sort of, you know? Or an open relationship, you know? Like, we're allowed to see other people while we're apart. I still want to stay in touch with you and talk on the phone because I think I'd miss you too much if we didn't have that. Of course seeing other people might make us fall in love with someone else, so I'm thinking that if I come back to Germany and we're both single at the time, then we're meant to be together, and we'll be happy forever. But if you meet someone else or I meet someone else, or I end up staying here – because Tom has been thinking about staying here – then, well, then it was great while it lasted. But I always want to be friends with you, Gusti. Okay? And I will probably always love you."

He smiled a little. "You're my first love; of course I'll never forget you."

He was silent for a moment. "This is making me sad. Maybe it's not the right choice after all. I think we should definitely allow each other to date, though. But we don't talk about that, okay? I think I'd die of jealousy if I knew you were going out with people. So we go out with other people but still talk on the phone, and we don't tell each other about anyone else unless it gets serious. Does that sound all right?"

He sighed. "I don't know. This is hard."

Gustav had thought he was ready to hear the words, but they still hit him far harder than he thought they would. "Okay," he managed. "That sounds like how we should do it. I… imagining you with someone else is hard, but if you fall in love, then… fall. Let yourself love and don't worry about some old man in Germany."

Bill smiled a little. "You're not an old man. You're beautiful, my protector, and I love you."

"Your beautiful protector found a white hair today," said Gustav softly. "So yeah, I am, but it's okay. Young or old, I will always love you. And if you're meant to come back to me, you will. And I will always be here for you, no matter what."

"That doesn't mean you're old," Bill said softly. "Besides, your hair is so blond; how can you have found a white hair?"

"I used a magnifying glass," admitted Gustav.

He rubbed his eyes and thought about what Bill had said before, keeping his voice steady. "I want to stay in touch too, and thought you might want to stay there. The US is exciting, I've heard."

Gustav took a breath. "I love you, Billi. You're my angel. But I want you to be free to experience everything an 18 year old beautiful man should, okay? I want you to have it all."

Bill felt his eyes get wet when Gustav called him his angel; he _was_. And he wanted to stay Gustav's angel but he wasn't sure if it was possible. 

"I love you," he whispered.

He was silent for a long moment. "What if it'll be a Harry and Sally thing and we see each other again but we're never single at the same time?" He smiled a little. "That would be frustrating."

Gustav pondered. "You'll have to be Sally, cause you're loud when you come. But it won't be like that, baby. It will… it will be fine."

Bill smiled. "I know," he said softly, then paused for a moment as he thought of something. 

"What if Georg suddenly wanted you?" he asked. "What if Georg wanted you, and I came back, wanting you too? Would you still want me then?"

Gustav closed his eyes. "Billi," he said softly. "Georg broke my heart once. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and I'm a fucking idiot. Georg doesn't want me, and I'm not that stupid."

He paused. "Don't worry about what will never happen, my love."

Bill listened to this and had to admit that he wasn't entirely convinced. He'd always thought that there was something between Georg and Gustav; and it wasn't one-sided. Maybe he'd been wrong, but he was pretty sure that, if Gustav had the option, he would take it. 

"Okay," he finally agreed. "I'll try not to. But we still don't have a real idea what we're gonna do. No conclusion."

"No, I guess we don't. Look – let's think about all this and try to maybe write it out, send it to each other, okay? Cause this won't make us anything but sad."

Bill paused for a moment when he could suddenly hear the phone being thrown against the wall in the next room and blinked, so he nodded. "That sounds like a good idea, baby. I'll send you a mail or letter soon, okay? Take care, Gusti, and don't get yourself into any silly situations, okay?"

"I'll try not to, but you know me – silly situations follow me around. I'm like a Monty Python film."

Gustav blew a kiss back at Bill and hung up, then lay back on his bed, naked. He wasn't sure what to think.

Bill smiled, then pressed a kiss against the phone and hung up as well, and went into the other room to check on Tom.

Tom was in a ball on the couch, crying like he hadn't since their mother had died. He had thought this was the way to go, the right thing to do, but hearing Georg sound so sad just killed him. 

He didn't even look up when Bill came into the room.

Bill looked down at Tom and it broke his heart as well. He crawled on top of him and cupped his cheeks, kissing his tears away. "What? Tomi, what is it? Talk to me?"

Tom sniffled and wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him and pressing his face into Bill's shoulder. "Georg… he sounds so sad without me and I miss him and what if we did the totally wrong thing leaving and…"

He didn't finish his sentence, just cried more.

"Oh Tomi…"

Bill wrapped his arms around him and held him, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair to comfort him. "It's gonna be okay, baby."

"Is it?" Tom looked at him, his eyes wide and wet. "I wish I thought so."

"Of course, Tomi," Bill said softly, looking into his eyes. "As long as we have each other, we're okay, remember?"

He kissed his lips and snuggled into him.

Tom managed to nod, accept the kiss and held onto Bill for dear life, like he was all he had.

Because in the end, Bill _was_ all he had.


	6. Hoohas - Not Always A Good Idea

A good fifteen minutes after his phone call with Tom had ended, Georg finally decided that he needed company. He reached for his phone again and dialled Gustav's number, hoping he wasn't busy. He needed him. He wasn't sure if he needed to talk or drink, but he needed Gustav right now.

When Gustav's phone went off again, he almost hoped it wasn't Bill – he felt oddly emotional now and although he wasn't afraid, per se, of feeling that anymore, it still wasn't easy for him.

But it was Georg, and as soon as he picked up, he knew something was wrong. "Hey you, what's the matter?"

Georg shook his head. "I just talked to Tom, and… well, it was a weird conversation. Do you wanna come over, or should I, or do you want to be alone?"

"That is so weird," said Gustav from his spot on the bed. "I just talked to Bill, too, and it was weird. We were talking about whether we should stay together or not and he asked me what if we got together – you and I. I told him he was mental."

He paused. "You sound wrecked. Come over, if you can, or I'll come to you. You okay to drive? Cause I'm kind of naked here."

"Well, Tom and I had-"

Georg paused, blinking. "You're kind of naked there?"

He had to grin; that was SO Gustav. "I'm okay to drive, yeah."

"Yeah, well – mostly, totally naked. Bill caught me coming out of the shower, and I didn't feel it was a conversation to have clothed. So yeah, but I'll put on underwear for you, okay?"

Georg grinned. "Underwear would be best, yeah, unless you want me to ogle you all the time."

He rubbed his face and sighed; now he was torn between laughing and crying.

Gustav paused. "You sound wrecked, Hagen – come on and let Uncle Gusti take care of you."

Georg nodded. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okeydokey," replied Gustav cheerfully, and pulled on some underwear – but that was all, 'cause it was his house and he didn't feel like wearing more. 

Ten minutes later, Georg let himself into the house – he still had Gustav's keys – and had to grin when Gustav was indeed only wearing boxers. "Nice," he said with a smile. "Also, hi!"

Gustav didn't care that Georg had a key to his house – didn't faze him at all. 

Hullo!" he said, from where he was mixing a pitcher of what he called "HooHaHooooooooooo…" Cause that's what you yelled after you'd had your first one.

His boxers had a picture of Eric Cartman on them, in sunglasses, screaming "Respect My Authoritah!"

He waved his special mixing-alcohol wooden spoon at Georg as he entered.

Georg grinned and watched him for a moment, then walked over to him. "What are you making? Also, you know, we could almost move in together, considering I sleep here almost every night."

"I know, right? I was thinking the same thing, dude. I should just turn my 'exercise' room into Geo's room."

Gustav paused, and snorted. His 'exercise room' consisted of an ancient Nordic-Track (which made an excellent rack for drying his unmentionables), a yoga mat and large TV. Often, Gustav went in to do some sit-ups, did five and then lay on the mat and watched Skinamax.

"Your exercise room," Georg just repeated, snorting as he shook his head. 

"Well, sometimes my hand gets exercise in there," offered Gustav with a grin, making Georg laugh out loud. 

Then Georg slid an arm around him and leaned against him, sighing heavily. "I'm exhausted. Long phone call and we didn't come to a satisfying conclusion at all, and in the end, I made him cry. Now I feel like a bastard."

Gustav wrapped an arm around his friend and listened to him. "Oh dude," he sighed, and put the spoon down, turning to hug Georg. "I talked to Bill – he didn't cry, but I think we decided to cool it and, I don't know if it's an open relationship, but we're both gonna email and… yeah. I'm sorry. I know it's hard 'cause you really love Tom."

"So basically, the phone call sucked for both of us." Georg rested his head on Gustav's shoulder. "I honestly thought I would be the one to cry, but…"

Gustav petted Georg's hair, his other hand rubbing his partner's back. "I'm sorry you had such a bad call, dude. Hearing tough-guy Tom cry must be something else."

More petting. "If you need to cry too, I won't mock you till tomorrow."

He smiled a little and hugged him tighter.

Georg wrapped his arms around him and snuggled into him, then had to smile. "I don't think I need to cry right now; maybe later."

He kissed Gustav's cheek. "But thanks for offering. And yeah… it was hard. He was so upset. I know he loves me, and while I just wanted him to be happy and to focus on his studies and… yeah, be able to maybe meet someone in the US, he was worrying about me, and…" He sighed. "I just don't know what's going on now. It's like… we broke up, but not."

He drew back and stroked Gustav's hair.

Gustav also enjoyed being petted and sighed. "We both had rotten phone calls, sounds like. We want them to be happy, they want us to be happy, and no one is sure that it's all meant to work out the way we thought it would."

He finally drew back too. "I have Hoohaas," he offered. "And nachos. And there's a Married with Children marathon on, so…?"

Georg nodded, thinking for a moment, then had to laugh. "Sure, that sounds like a plan. Let's do it."

He eyed him and pondered. "Maybe I should take off my pants and shirt as well. I feel overdressed."

"That's my boy," Gustav said cheerfully. "I have never known you to turn down alcohol and bad-for-you food. I would be petrified with worry if you wanted carrot juice and like, hummus."

Then he grinned and did a Mordecai and Rigby "HUMMMMMUSSSSSS!" dance around Georg, then grinned. "I say you take it all off. I won't touch."

He paused. "I might stare, but not touch."

Georg cracked up and facepalmed a little, then raised a brow. "Is that so? Well, that's okay. I'll be staring at you too."

Gustav smiled; he could always make Georg laugh, even if he was really upset. "Of course you will be – I'm fucking gorgeous! I mean, look at this body!"

Georg grinned. "You _are_ fucking gorgeous. I mean that."

Gustav rolled his eyes but smiled. "Thanks dude."

Georg smiled, then tugged off his shirt, dropped his pants and flopped down on the couch, putting his feet – with his socks still on – up on the table. "I'm ready. Drinks, food, and bad TV. Bring it, Wolfie." 

Gustav got the food and drinks ready while Georg sort of stripped; God, he was pretty, a pretty, pretty boy. 

He sat down beside his friend, flipped on the television and poured him a cup of Hooohaaa. 

"I'm bringing it, Hagen – beware." He passed him a plate with extra sour cream and guacamole.

Georg gave him a smile, then took a few nachos and dipped them, sighing happily as he shoved them into his mouth and drank some Hooohaaa. 

"Mmmm. You've outdone yourself, Gusti."

He grinned, then leaned back as he watched Married With Children.

Gustav took a sip of Hoohaaa and shivered. "Wow, top-shelf booze makes all the difference, huh? Hoooey!"

They munched and laughed over Al and Peg. "God, Bud could be my brother," sighed Gustav. "Minus the tat of the vagina, or maybe because of it – and oh, he sent me a picture of it from his phone. Check this shit out."

Georg snorted. "He could be, yeah. And really?"

Gustav reached over and grabbed his phone; a new one, a sleek dark green. "Look."

Georg leaned over to peek at the phone, then started laughing. "Oh my God. That… fuck, that looks kind of real, doesn't it? It's creepy."

"I asked him how it could look so real and he says he paid a hooker to pose for him, then brought it to the tattoo artist. I can just see his face when he laid eyes on that thing. Although, as vags go, I suppose he picked one of the prettier ones."

He closed his phone. "There is something so wrong with that boy. Also, my mother wants to adopt now. She's decided that Dad being retired is annoying and she needs intelligent life to talk to, so she wants to adopt. Can you imagine another fucking kid like me and Ger? Holy shit!"

He finished his drink, and then poured both of them another.

Georg snorted. "Dear God. Your brother is nuts. YOU are nuts, but you're a good kind of nuts while your brother is just… yeah, nuts. So I guess it would depend on whether your mother adopts another you or another him."

"I know, right? It's frightening. And somehow, my mum would find the one terminally warped kid to adopt that would put both me and the bro to shame; this is guaranteed." 

Georg grinned, getting increasingly drunk. Gustav's Hoohaas were strong to begin with, so after only about three, he was a little more than tipsy. He leaned against Gustav; being drunk always made him snuggly and/or horny. Today, it was snuggly.

Gustav tended to get snuggly too, and the drinks really WERE strong, so he didn't mind at all when Georg leaned against him and sighed. He leaned his head against Georg's and sighed. "Bill was really worried we'd end up together, you and me."

Georg nuzzled him, closing his eyes as he breathed Gustav in. "And what did you say to that?" he asked softly, turning his head a little, so that his breath was tickling Gustav's neck.

"I told him it wasn't gonna happen," said Gustav softly. Damn that boy, breathing on him. "I told him I wouldn't get my heart broken twice."

He sighed and scrunched down a little on the sofa. "Like Bill wasn't enough of a challenge, seriously."

Georg was silent for a long moment. "I wouldn't break your heart again," he said, his voice soft. He stroked Gustav's hair and snuggled. "I wouldn't."

His face was pressed into Gustav's neck and it was fucking HARD not to kiss, lick or bite him.

"Hagen, you didn't mean to the first time. You had no idea you had until I was a full-blown cokehead." Gustav's voice was soft, and didn't have any condemnation in it. "You didn't even do anything to make it happen – it just did."

He turned his head, and sighed. He loved being snuggled and petted, but he was careful these days.

"I know," Georg said. "But I still… if I gave you any very obvious hints in the future, then it would mean something. That's all I'm saying. I wouldn't seduce you again unless I really meant it. Okay? But… yeah. I won't break your heart."

He nuzzled him again, rubbing the back of Gustav's neck.

"You are evil to rub my neck like that," sighed Gustav. "You know I love that. And sure, I know. I know that you know. If we're being honest, I'm more worried about my inability to figure out what's real and not real, than anything with you."

"That's why I'm doing it," Georg murmured, rubbing more. "Just want to make you feel better. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Nooooo," sighed Gustav, dropping his head down, so his whole neck was bared for Georg's magic fingers.

He nuzzled Georg back. "Why do you have to be so pretty? Why?"

Georg looked up at him then, opening his eyes half-way and meeting Gustav's. "I don't know," he said. "Why are you so sexy?"

Gustav turned his face to Georg and blinked. "I'm not," he smiled. "You're drunk, Geo. You have… hooohaa goggles. They're like beer goggles, except everything looks purple. It's either macular degeneration or the tequila. M'not sure."

"Hmmm, I doubt that," Georg said with a smile, but didn't stop rubbing. "I think it makes things just look even clearer, such as your hotness."

Gustav snorted, but it was more of a snort combined with a little sigh and moan, 'cause his neck felt awesome. Georg could be a masseur if he gave up police work, he thought hazily.

Then Georg started running his fingers through Gustav's hair and _kissing his shoulder_ … and Gustav closed his eyes and let him for a long moment, before groaning and turning to Georg, sliding his hand into Georg's hair and kissing his neck, tasting warm skin.

Georg sucked in a breath, and a part of him knew he shouldn't be doing this. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, sighing softly when Gustav kissed it. He slid his fingers into his hair and tightened his hand in it, moaning softly at the feel of Gustav's lips against his skin. It felt beyond amazing.

Gustav closed his eyes and tried to shut down his mind and concentrate on how it felt to touch Georg this way. Georg was pulling his hair slightly, which he loved, and he stroked the other side of Georg's neck as he slid his mouth up to Georg's ear. He nibbled the lobe gently, then harder.

Georg's eyes fluttered and he moaned; his whole body was on fire. He bit his lip and swallowed hard, his heart beating faster.

Why did Georg have to _moan_? Dammit, that sound did bad, bad things to Gustav and he felt arousal coiling in the pit of his stomach, and moving downward.

He stopped for a moment, taking a shaky breath.

He should stop. He needed to stop this right now.

But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Georg opened his eyes when the kissing, sucking and nibbling stopped, and looked up into Gustav's eyes. He bit his lip and looked at him for a long moment, then reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down. He took a breath, pausing for another moment before he kissed Gustav's lips gently, closing his eyes.

Any thought Gustav had of pulling back or being noble disappeared when Georg looked at him that way.

He closed his eyes when Georg kissed him and went down with him, on the super-comfy couch, laying on top of him and kissing him back, almost desperately.

Georg hooked a leg around Gustav and kissed him back, deepening the kiss and moaning softly into the other man's mouth. He sighed softly and ran his fingers through his hair, then down his back, clinging to him as he kissed him hard.

Gustav shivered at the fingers trailing down his back and made a soft sound into Georg's mouth as they kissed, their tongues stroking and tangling with each other's.

They kissed for a long time, as though they'd never kissed another living soul but each other.


	7. Trouble In Paradise

When Georg woke up the next morning, he was snuggled into the warm body on top of him. He sighed happily and kissed the other man's shoulder lightly, then frowned. He opened his eyes and raised his brows, realizing that the person on top of him was Gustav. 

His head was pounding and he frantically tried to remember why he was here and what had happened the night before. They were both half-naked and in a definitely intimate and snuggly position and… fuck. How much alcohol had he _had_ last night? 

Gustav didn't often actually pass out, but when he did, it was a hard fall, so he didn't feel the kiss on the shoulder. Instead, he dreamed.

As it turned out, they had consumed a whole lotta alcohol last night – the pitcher Gustav used was pretty large, it had been full, and now was nearly empty.

The dregs were pretty lethal though, as Gustav knew from painful experience.

Georg tried to stay still; Gustav didn't seem to want to wake up any time soon. Hmmm.   
Georg contemplated what to do. Should he wake him up? Or should he just… slide out from underneath Gustav and pretend that nothing had happened? That might be the best thing to do, especially considering that Georg didn't know what had actually happened in the first place. He licked his lips and bit his lip, then decided to make his escape from below Mount Gustav. He stood up and stretched, unable to suppress a smile as he looked down at his sleeping partner. 

Then he made his way into the kitchen and made coffee and breakfast.

Gustav groggily came to when he smelled sausage – he loved sausage. He rolled over and sniffed. Mmmmm.

Unless he had drunkenly hired a housekeeper last night – which would be cool, frankly – it had to be… uh, Georg, because Bill couldn't cook – at least not well, and also, wasn't here.

He sat up and groaned. Top shelf hoohaa was fucking amazing shit, but about ten times more powerful than his usual mix. Dude.

He got up, went and peed for ten minutes, washed his face – ugh – brushed his teeth – more ugh – and finally stumbled into the kitchen, collapsing on a chair. "Oh my God."

Georg looked up when Gustav came in and raised a brow. "You okay there?"

He smiled, then served breakfast and sat down across from him. "Also, good morning to you."

He looked at Gustav for a moment, wondering if _he_ remembered something… Things would be more awkward if he did. Right?

"I don't know if I'm okay. Did you cut open my head and insert tiny witch doctors with bongos? Cause if you did, there's that. If not, I'm really, really fucking hung over."

Georg laughed. "Um… nope. I didn't. So I think you're just really, really fucking hung over, as am I, by the way. Your drinks are getting stronger every time we have them."

"Fuck. I was really hoping impromptu brain surgery happened last night. And I know, right? I'm dangerous behind the pitcher. I am a mixologist extraordinaire." Gustav nodded and rubbed his head, then managed to smile at the breakfast, and then at Georg. "Sausage…"

Georg raised a brow and grinned. "Yes… sausage. You like it."

He found himself flushing at that statement and didn't know why. Did his subconscious know something he didn't? Was it trying to tell him something? 

What the fuck had _happened_ last night?

Gustav nodded again, then winced. "Only sausage can save me now."

He dug in, and ate one, made happy sounds, and then looked up. "What?"

Georg bit his lip and looked at him, wondering if it was wise to say something. But he hated blackouts and couldn't stand not remembering things, so if there was a chance Gustav knew what had happened… 

"Well, I… Do you remember what happened last night? I mean… anything?" Georg furrowed his brow; he remembered that they'd watched Married with Children. They'd eaten nachos, gotten drunk, talked a little…

He played with his knife, looking at himself in the reflection – then his eyes widened when he saw a red spot on his neck that could only be a hickey.

The ear licking/sucking/nibbling came back to him then and he paled a little.

Gustav chewed, thinking, then realized that he could only do one of those things at any given time. And apparently, Georg wanted him to think.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

"We drank. And watched TV, and ate, and you said if I got married, I'd be Peg Bundy, I said you'd be Marcy, and then pummeled you. Then we made up, ate cookie dough and… are you fucking checking your hair in the reflection? Oy vey."

"I'm not checking my hair," Georg said, sighing. He tilted his head and pointed at the hickey. "Does this ring any bells?"

He looked at him, hoping he wasn't making things worse by reminding Gustav that _something_ had happened between them the night before.

Gustav eyed the hickey. "Hickeys usually don't ring bells, unless they become sentinent, monstrous, and climb Notre Dame."

He took the moment of stunned silence that earned him to eat a bite of egg. 

Then he swallowed, sipped some juice, and looked again. "Who gave you the hickey?"

Georg looked at him for a long moment, then took a bite as well and drank some coffee. He lit a cigarette and stood up, opening the window and leaning against the window sill, looking at him. "You did."

Gustav furrowed his brows. "I don't remember that at all," he said, in a tone that suggested that Georg was clinically insane and in dire need of medication.

"You," he said after a moment, "kissed my shoulder, for some unknown reason. Perhaps you enjoy the taste of freckle – you are an odd sort. But nothing else happened."

Georg looked at him and raised a brow. "Gustav. When I woke up this morning, we were both in our boxers. You were on top of me, your morning wood digging into mine. I have a hickey on my neck that wasn't there last night, and I clearly do remember you sucking and nibbling my earlobe."

He frowned and looked down, thinking hard… then suddenly remembered kissing. "We made out," he breathed. "Fuck, Gustav."

He rubbed his forehead and looked at him. "Think. What else happened?"

He wasn't sure why it was so important to push the issue now – he would probably only hurt Gustav more than he already had. But Georg was stupid sometimes, and couldn't be stopped when that was the case. 

"No, no, no." Gustav waved a fork at him. "I might have fallen on top of you, but we didn't make out. You must have been dreaming about your Tomi-boy."

He went back to eating. "I don't need to think about it – we didn't make out. I would not be doing something like that again."

He drank more coffee, and leaned back. "Georg, making out with you, then fucking you, nearly killed me. Why in hell would I do that again, for real?"

Georg looked at him and swallowed hard. "We did. We made out. I don't remember anything else but I know we did. Fuck… I'm so sorry."

He finished his cigarette, then sat down hard and buried his face in his hands. "I'm so fucked up."

"I don't believe it." Gustav kept his voice steady, cause that's what denial required. "I would remember if we had. You don't have to apologize, 'cause nothing happened."

He looked at his friend and bit his lip. "Is this how it's gonna be every time now? Are you going to want me to be a substitute for Tom when you get drunk? Cause I can't be that for you."

He took a deep breath. "I was in love with you, but you didn't love me the same way. I'm still in therapy over that and various other things. I can't go down that road again. I'm not a fuck buddy. I can't be."

"I know," Georg whispered. "I'm sorry. I just… I love you. You're the most important person in my life and… I'm sorry. Maybe I should just stay away from you when I'm drunk. I obviously can't trust myself around you."

He looked up. "I'm really sorry, Gustav. I am. And it won't happen again. I'll stay a meter away from you at all times from now on."

Gustav swallowed. "That's gonna make partnering interesting, if you impose your own restraining order on us."

He hadn't cried last night, but he felt like it now. Were he and Georg ever going to be really all right again?

He guessed not.

He stood up. "I'm gonna go take a shower," he said faintly, and his voice was shaky. "I guess I'll see you later. Thank you for breakfast."

Georg looked up at him and felt like grabbing Josie the Gun and shooting himself with her. He'd done it again. He'd fucked everything up. He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "I'll… I'll go home and change. I'll see you at work then?"

He bit his lip, wanting to apologize again, but he'd done enough for now.

"Yeah, sure; I'll make sure and move our desks apart so we can be separated."

Georg watched Gustav leave and just sat there for a long moment before he managed to get up and clean everything up. He put on his clothes, and considered going into the bathroom and apologizing once more, but then just went home where he also took a long shower, and found himself thinking about last night.

Gustav just made it into the shower when the tears came, and he sat there on the floor of the tub, with the water splashing down over him, and cried.

When the water had turned tepid, then cold, and he was cried out, he finally turned off the water, climbed out of the tub, and dried, dressing slowly.

Then he got on his laptop, and emailed the captain, asking for a transfer.


	8. Queen Patty

Georg spent an hour or two at home, because he needed that time to calm down. When he finally did make his way to work, he found their office empty. Gustav wasn't there in his usual spot. 

True to his word, Gustav had moved the desks, so they no longer faced each other. A meter away, right?

Georg swallowed hard and frowned, then sat down on his desk, wondering if Gustav had maybe gone home again because he was still upset with him, but that wasn't Gustav's style. He didn't run away from his problems – not anymore. 

So Georg waited. And when Gustav still wasn't there half an hour later, he got up and went to talk to someone who might know where he was – because she always knew everything.

"Hey Patty? Did Gustav call in sick or something?"

Patty looked up – as the secretary, she had access to all the mail that came through for the captain, and had seen the transfer request.

It was one of the first times in years that Patty had looked that serious. "Not to my knowledge – as far as I know, he's in talking to the Captain."

She looked at him and realized he didn't know. 

She stood and patted her seat. "Sit and read," she said softly. "I'll go grab a soda and be back."

Georg looked at her curiously, then frowned as he sat down on Patty's chair and looked at the screen, seeing the emails from Gustav – from today. 

He opened the last one and scrolled down to read the whole exchange…

_From: Schäfer, G.  
Subject: Transfer…_

The emails between the Captain and Gustav were short and terse; Gustav asking for a transfer. The Captain asking why. Gustav replying that he had personal reasons.

It went on and on, and now Gustav was in his office, and if Georg turned, he could see them through the glass.

When Patty came back with Cokes for them both, she squeezed his shoulder. "What's going on, Geo? How did this happen? You two are… well, you two!"

"We are!" Georg said, visibly upset. He stood up and leaned against the desk to let Patty sit down, then ran a hand through his hair – curly and sproingy, just for Gustav – and hissed, annoyed, when his hand got stuck in a curl. "Fucking hair!"

He sighed, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it, not caring that he wasn't in his own office where he could do whatever he wanted. He looked at Gustav through the glass and swallowed hard, looking down. 

"We had a bit of a thing this morning, and… he got upset, I got upset, I was a bit of an asshole, but… I can't believe he did this! I mean, it wasn't even a bad fight; we've had worse and recovered pretty well then."

He glared at the floor and shook his head. "If he goes, I quit."

Patty sighed and disengaged Georg's hand, then stroked his hair gently. "Gustav loves your hair – you did this just for him, didn't you?"

Georg sighed. "Yeah, I did. I thought it would definitely cheer him up."

"It will." Patty twirled a curl around her finger.

She didn't give him a hard time for smoking, for once, just turned on her desk fan and sat back down. "I think," she said softly, "that you two need to work whatever is going on with you, out. It's more than being partners and it's more than being friends. He loves you, Geo. Loves you, loves you. And if that can't be reciprocated – and I'm not blaming you, giving you hell or anything like that – then maybe he's doing the right thing."

She was silent for a moment. "He thinks maybe you should go to the US and be with your boy, be happy with him."

Georg looked down at his feet. "I know we have stuff to figure out. Now more than ever because we're both sort of single again, and… everything's just really fucked up and confusing."

His head snapped up and he frowned. "He's not doing the right thing. I need him."

A second later, he realized how selfish that sounded and swallowed hard as he looked down again. 

"You're both sort of single again?" Patty asked. "Well."

Georg didn't say anything else, and after a moment, just stood up. "I need to be alone," he said softly and walked to his office, then paused. "Thanks for letting me read the mails."

Patty watched Georg walk away and sighed. Why the hell did these boys have to be so complicated? And how could she retire in peace if they didn't ride off into the sunset together? Dammit, she'd worked too hard on those two to let them fuck up now.

Georg closed the door behind himself and sat down on the window sill, opening the window wide as he smoked his cigarette. Then another one. Then another one. 

He glanced at the frog cupcake he'd put on Gustav's desk and swallowed hard. 

Maybe he should just go back home and never get out of bed again.

***

Gustav finally left the captain's office feeling drained, and made his way into their office.

The air in the office was actually gray, foggy with smoke. God, how had he had that habit for so long? 

He turned on the fan and sat down at his desk, staring at Georg's back and his sproingy curls.

Georg heardsmelledfelt Gustav come in but didn't turn around because he was pretty sure he'd fall to his knees and cry, begging him not to leave him. So he just kept staring out of the window and smoking his cigarette. He dug his fingernails into his palm, itching to say something that would be either desperate, or it would fuck them even more up. He wasn't ready for either of those things, so he bit his lip and forced himself to shut up. 

But after a few seconds, he just couldn't stay silent any longer. "So. You're leaving?" He tried to keep his voice indifferent but the hurt in it was obvious.

Gustav didn't say anything for a moment, cause he was staring at the frog cupcake – he blinked hard, and wasn't sure he _could_ speak. 

He swallowed hard twice, then managed. "Apparently not without a fight – my request was denied. So you and I can sit in this little office and you can hate me from across the room through eternity."

Georg's voice killed him, and he had to look down, staring at the cupcake.

Georg tossed his cigarette away and turned around, putting his hands on Gustav's desk and frowning at him. "I don't hate you. I don't fucking – how can you even think something like that? I made my hair sproingy for you, I baked you a cupcake, I… Do you think I want you to leave? I don't! And if you do leave, I'm going to quit. Being with you here is more than half of what makes this job so brilliant."

He took a breath and sighed. "Do you _want_ to leave?" he asked softly, looking at him worriedly.

Gustav nodded. "I know you did – the hair, I mean. And thank you for the cupcake."

He finally made himself look up at him. "I don't know what else to do," he said simply. "As long as what stands between us remains, I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave, I don't want you to leave, but I just can't have nights like last night. And I can't have you telling me you can't be near me. I know you don't understand."

Georg looked at him and swallowed hard, then sat down on his desk. "We need to come up with something," he said softly. "I just… I need to get over Tom. Or not. But I think I just need some time away from… well, here. Not from YOU but from… home."

He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know. I just don't."

"That makes two of us." Gustav absently bit into the cupcake, and despite everything, had to smile. "You made a mint frog – you are brilliant."

Just then, Patty came in, looking satisfied and more than a little smug – and also worried and like she wanted to roast them both, slowly, over fire, on a slow-turning spit.

Only Patty could manage all of that simultaneously.

"All right, you two." She pulled up a chair and sighed. "Geo, love, you need to cut down on the cigs – you're too young to have charred lungs. Gustav, eat your cupcake and move your fucking desk back to where it belongs. Now."

Gustav knew better than to argue, and moved his desk.

"Okay. These, right here?” She waved two sheets of paper at them. “These are two tickets to the French Riviera, on the department. You two are to go there, lie on the sand, go skinny-dipping, and work out your bloody interpersonal issues."

She gave them both THE LOOK. "I called in a shitload of favors with the Captain to get him to agree, and he only is agreeing because he a) knows better than to screw with me and b) doesn't want to lose either of you. So – you two get on a plane, and be friends. That's an order."

She shook the papers at them warningly, then sat back. "Where are the rest of those cupcakes, Listing?"

For a long moment, Georg was stunned, then he blinked and reached for the box with the rest of the cupcakes – there were owls, too. He opened the box and let Gustav and Patty have as many as they wanted, and finally looked at those tickets. He looked at Gustav thoughtfully, then back at Patty and had to grin. "You got us a vacation? Dude!"

"Yes, I got you a vacation. You two are a pain in my ass, but I adore you and before I shuffle off this mortal coil – and out of this station at the same time, most likely – you two are going to be okay with each other. _Completely_ okay, understand?"

She sighed and ate a cupcake. "A chocolate owl, mmm. So this is a month free for you, and I want you two to behave yourselves."

She stood up. "Thank me later. Now go pack."

She stalked out, leaving the papers on the desk.

Georg was once again stunned for a long moment, and finally looked at Gustav. "You know… she rocks. She rocks and kicks ass and you're no longer the only one who wants to marry her. Dude."

"She does," breathed Gustav. "She does and now she has to become a Mormon so we can both marry her."

Georg leaned back and grinned. "A vacation – now why didn't that occur to ME?"

He snorted; because he was a workaholic who never went anywhere.

“You mentioned one earlier, but never in your life did you think we’d get one this way.” Gustav looked at the tickets. "These are fucking first-class tickets!"

As if on cue, they heard the Captain bellow. "First class? Do you know how expensive that…"

"Oh, Reggie, shush. What's more important, Listing and Schäfer being on board or some champagne and leg room? Jesus. Go to your two o'clock and let me get back to managing your life."

There was the sound of a minor scuffle as she hustled the Captain off to parts unknown.

Gustav grinned and ate another frog. "It didn't occur to us 'cause she's a hell of a lot smarter than either one of us."

"She really is," Georg agreed, then cracked up over the little exchange between Patty and the captain. After a moment, Georg stood up. "All right. I'm gonna go and pack. How long did she say? A month? I'm not sure I even have that many clothes. So when are we leaving?"

Gustav cracked up too, and for a long moment, it was like nothing had ever happened between them – not last night, not over a year ago. They were the same goofy assholes they'd always been.

"A month," he confirmed. "I _don't_ have that many clothes, so I might have to buy some, make the people at Visa happy. They email me. "Hello, Gustav, we have sex toys for you, and also fetish wear. Don't you want to use your platinum Visa card for these, hmmm?"

He stood up. "We leave tomorrow at ten am, so I guess we better get our asses in gear, no?"

Georg grinned; he'd missed hearing Gustav laugh – it wasn't like he never laughed anymore, but not like THIS. 

He smirked at him, then got up as well. "All right, yeah, and tomorrow at ten? Fuck – how did she _do_ that? How did she organize those tickets so fast?"

He shook his head, then grabbed the rest of the cupcakes and his stuff, and exited the room.

"I don't know, man. She's just that fucking brilliant, is what."

Gustav watched Georg leave, sproingy curls and all. In the Riviera, he was never, ever going to let Georg straighten his hair. It was going to be boingy for a full fucking MONTH, sir.

Georg walked over to Patty and looked down at her. "I love you," he said. "I hope you know that."

Gustav got his stuff together, cleaned off his desk and locked it up, planning on giving the key to Patty who was smiling up at Georg. "I love you too, Pretty Boy," she said cheerfully. "And of course I know that. Now go, get the hell out of here. And bring sunscreen!"

She stood up and stretched to kiss his cheek, then patted Georg's ass as she sent him on his way.

Gustav smiled and waited his turn. "I love you too, as unoriginal as that now sounds. And thank you."

Patty smiled at him, too. "I love you too, Boy-Who-Runs-Off-At-Mouth. Have a good time, and don't get into too much trouble, all right?"

She smooched him, and when they were both gone, she sat down and crossed her legs, satisfied.


	9. Holiday - It Would Be So Nice!

Georg was terrified of waking up too late and missing his plane, so he made sure he was already up at six. He took care of some last minute packing, then showered, _didn't_ straighten his hair, as per Gustav's request, and finally left the house on time – which was a big achievement for him – picked up some coffee and drove to Gustav's. 

He couldn't get the smile off his face. He had a feeling this vacation was exactly what they needed, and that it would solve all of their problems. He refused to think about the possibility that it might actually make things worse. No. They would work everything out; he was sure of it. 

He parked his car in front of Gustav's building, then went to ring the bell, grinning when his friend opened and thrusting the coffee into his hand. "Ready? Need help with your bags? What are you taking? You didn't forget your passport, right?"

Georg was never this cheerful in the early morning.

Gustav eyed him suspiciously. "Are you on Dexies? You're never this energetic this early."

He was already dressed and packed, and had been playing Solitaire on his laptop for half an hour.

Georg grinned. "I know, right? I surprised myself when I woke up at 6; didn't wanna risk missing that plane. I'M SO EXCITED!!!"

"You woke up at SIX? Dude, you must be."

Gustav took the coffee and had to grin at him. "My bags are packed – I only have those two and my backpack. I have my wallet, credit card, debit card and passport. I also have "1001 Fun Facts About Everything," a guide to the best whorehouses in France and a Michelin restaurant guide to restaurants and wine. I am SET."

He sighed happily. "And you are all sproingy AND boingy. Fantastic."

Georg grinned widely, then snorted. "You _are_ set. God, this is going to be beyond awesome. Sun, beach, vacation, amazingly good food…"

He smiled, then laughed. "Yeah, I am. Just for you. Now let's get going.”

Georg's grin never failed to make Gustav smile too, and he nodded. "I am set – you didn't have any doubt that I would be, did you?"

Georg smiled. "No, I didn't doubt it for a second. You're always ready."

Gustav sipped his coffee. "Damn right I am - and thanks for the coffee, by the way. That was sweet of you."

He made a last-minute check of his flat, then got his bags, set the alarm, and locked the door. "All right, let's get this show on the road."

He got into the passenger side of Georg's car (the department was even picking up the tab for long term parking, which amazed Gustav almost more than anything else) and leaned back as they drove to the airport.

He'd never been to the Riviera, and had spent last night reading up on it, snorting over the many, many, 'clothing-optional' beaches. 

"How much sunscreen do you think you'd need to put on your cock so it wouldn't get burned?"

Georg snorted and looked up. "Err… I have no idea, but I know I'll keep mine out of the sun as much as possible. Burnt dick? OW. No thanks."

He grinned and drank his coffee as he drove, sighing happily. This was going to be _awesome_.

At the airport they parked, found their terminal and checked in, getting their boarding passes; they were early for a change, so Gustav passed the time making up stories about the other people in the terminal. 

When they'd been just rookies, and had to be on boring shit like traffic duty, he'd done the same thing, and as he looked over at Georg, he was struck. "You know, you haven't changed much in the almost ten years we've been doing this stuff."

Georg looked over at him and smiled. "You think so? Well… my hair got a lot longer."

He grinned. "But I know what you mean – neither have you, actually."

"Well, yeah, other than that, you lazy sot. It was cute when it was shorter too, though; you looked very innocent. All curly, always shoving it out of your face. Misleading as hell, sure, but cute."

Talking about Georg's cuteness could get him into trouble though, so he steered away from that.

Georg rolled his eyes but gave him a smile; he didn't think his hair was EVER cute but he wouldn't get into an argument he knew he would lose. Gustav was convinced his hair was cute and sexy and whatever, so he had to accept that. 

Gustav continued then. "I haven't, huh? I guess it's cause, you know what they say – you don't mess with perfection," said Gustav blandly. "I mean, I have all this, so…"

"Nope, you haven't. And yes, that must be it." Georg grinned and shook his head – he actually did think Gustav was perfect and loved him just the way he was. 

"So," he said finally. "Should I get us some trashy magazines to read on the plane?"

"That would be awesome," smiled Gustav, digging in his pocket for his wallet. "I could use a little light reading."

He stayed with their bags while Georg went off to the newsstand, and looked around. He never took time off, unless he was deathly ill – or in rehab. He didn't like to think about that time in his life though. It was valuable in a lot of ways, but he wasn't proud of it either.

When Georg came back with an impressive stack of all the news fit to print (and the rest blatantly made up), their flight was announced, and Gustav felt a shiver of excitement. They were really _going_.

A few minutes later, they were on the plane, seated, and ready to gossip about the other passengers, people at work and to read their magazines. 

"First class," Georg said incredulously. "Patty really is the best person in the world."

"She is, and when the world ends and God takes her as his office manager or Satan takes her as his concubine? Either way, I'm having her canonized as a saint."

Gustav stretched. "Vaya Con Dios, baby. And yes, I'd love some champagne."

He smiled at the flight attendant, who was cute. He looked a little like Tom, and he glanced over at Georg.

No, Gustav. NO.

He smiled, accepted his champagne and sipped. Bubbly at ten am was so fucking cool. He might have to do this routinely!

Georg didn't even look at the flight attendant but accepted the champagne gratefully. He smiled and raised his glass. "To a fucking amazing vacation – no one will recognize us when we get back. We'll be relaxed and… yeah."

"And tan. And hotter than we already are," Gustav added. 

Georg grinned, clinked their glasses and sipped some champagne. "This is the only way to fly, seriously."

Gustav sighed. "It is. I say, if the department is so desperate to keep our asses, they buy us a helicopter with a mini-bar."

The flight _was_ relatively short, but still relaxing, although Gustav hated ascent with a passion. Descent was fine, but ugh, going up?

They stepped off the plane in Antibes, and Gustav took a deep breath. 

Georg followed and looked around with a smile. "I feel better already. Don't you?" 

He nudged Gustav towards the airport building, and when they had their bags – there weren't any problems, fortunately – they got into a taxi and were ready for the vacation to begin.

***

At the hotel, Georg just stood there and gaped for a long moment. "This is what I call luxury," he said, unable to stop grinning like an idiot. "I love our job."

As they carried their bags inside, he wondered if Patty had gotten them two separate rooms, or just one. Hmmm…

Gustav wondered what Patty had done, too – he wouldn't put anything past that woman, seriously. 

And his fears were realized when they entered the suite and there was one bedroom, complete with one bed.

… which was in the shape of a heart.

The manager was effusive. "Our honeymoon suite is our finest room," he said cheerfully. "Young couples such as you really enjoy it. It has a whirlpool, sauna, of course this immensely comfortable bed, a mini bar – which is included in the price, we do not charge extra – 24 hour room service, an in-house masseuse…”

Gustav managed to not snort until the little man left. Then he sat down on the couch in the suite, and laughed till he thought he might pee. "God, I LOVE Patty!"

Georg was snickering as well and flopped down on the glorious heart-shaped bed, stretching. "God, this is fantastic," he moaned. "I'll never leave this bed, I swear. You need to try this."

"I will be, trust me." Gustav dropped back onto the bed and sighed heavily. "Me gusta."

He glanced over, laughing when he read the text Georg was sending Patty. 

_We’ve arrived at the hotel now, and you're an evil, evil woman and we love you more than anything. b29;_

At the station house, Patty was busy going through Gustav's desk, looking for files she knew he'd hidden and any candy bars he'd squirrelled away. She knew that he knew that she would do this, and felt no shame.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, reading the message, a huge smile spreading across her face. 

_Those are my good boys. I thought you'd like the bed. And if you go to nude beaches, make sure to zinc up your weenie._


	10. By The Pool

Their table on the terrace was in the shadow and had a good view of the pool – and Paolo. He really was pretty well-endowed, thought Gustav. Whoa.

Gustav stretched his legs and smiled; the sun was hot, the heat was dry, Paolo was almost naked, and the drinks, when they came, were fucking _huge_

In fact, they were the size of a fishbowl, and Gustav dove in. "So we're spending a month sunburned and drunk? Fuck, I really DO love Patty."

He raised his fishbowl and clinked Georg's. "Now, see, HERE is a place to play "I Spy."

Georg grinned. "I know, right? I can't get over the awesomeness of this."

He sighed happily and leaned back, sipping his drink. "Mhm. It is! I spy a giant cock in a Speedo."

He grinned.

Gustav had a mouthful of rum and only just managed to swallow it before he cracked up laughing. "You dork," he managed. "I spy that too, and it is stunning. Maybe he has a friend for you."

He leaned back in his seat. "God, is everyone here just gorgeous, or what?"

Georg smiled but didn't like the idea of Gustav with a guy like that. Hmmm. 

Then he nodded. "God, yeah. They're all gorgeous. And so tan – we really need to get some sun, dude. We look like German vampires, honestly."

"We do, except that we can pronounce our W's," said Gustav, nodding. "But yes, sun is definitely in order. Once we are tan, we can proceed with our plans for world domination."

"That, we can," Georg agreed. "And world domination, huh? I didn't know that was our plan. But sure! I'm in."

"Pinky, Pinky, it's always our plan," replied Gustav from the depths of his fishbowl; he was nearly done with his first cocktail already.

Georg grinned, then ordered starters – all of them. "I'm gonna buy you some good food now. We might not move for the rest of the day, but that's okay. I think we should just taste everything today; that way, we'll know what to stay away from."

Gustav brightened at the thought of appetizers. "I have no plans that require moving, actually, so order away. You buy food, I'll buy drinks, and it will all be good."

Just then Paolo, The Pool Boy, stretched in the sun, his bronzed body gleaming with oil, his blond hair tousling gently in the slight breeze and Gustav sighed. "Holy mother of nnnnhggghh…"

Georg sipped some more of his cocktail; if he continued like this, he would be drunk in ten minutes. But they were on vacation, so who cared?

His head shot up when Gustav moaned, and after a brief look at Paolo, Georg glowered, his stomach tightening a little. He didn't like that guy. At all. And he liked even less that Gustav obviously liked looking at him.

Gustav looked over at Georg, who was scowling. "Why are you scowling? Are your trunks too tight? Is your sproingyness annoying you? Have you run into a no-rum pocket in your drink?"

Georg blinked and shook his head. "No. There's just something fishy about that Paolo guy," he murmured. "My hair confirms it. Even sproingy and curly, it has good instincts about people – and Paolo… there's something wrong with him."

"Fishy? No, I bet he smells AWESOME. I'm thinking Polo Black, myself." Gustav sighed, then had to laugh a second later. "Oh God, not your psychic hair again! And the pool boy is fine, Geo."

Gustav peered at Paolo. "BOY, is he fine. You're imagining things, son. We're supposed to be relaxing."

Georg sipped more of his drink, then ordered two different ones for them, tasting first Gustav's, then his own. "Fuck, the drinks here are magical."

He frowned a little. "Fine. He smells and looks awesome – but he's not a good guy. You must see that."

Georg wasn't sure why he was insisting so much, and why he felt so odd when Gustav ogled that guy so openly – it had happened before and Georg had never felt anything – but now…

He sighed. "You'll see," he just said, and dove into his next drink, so to speak. He'd probably be in bed with a terrible hangover later, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Geo, don't get your thong in a twist. He's just eye candy. And where there is one hottie, there are more hotties. Let's scan the crowd like we were doing a line-up. We can judge by tan and bulge."

Georg sighed. "I just don't like the sight of him," he murmured, not cheered by the idea of more hotties either. What was wrong with him?

He was feeling oddly pessimistic. And Georg had never been pessimistic. If he spent his whole vacation being like this, Gustav surely wouldn't want to be friends with him anymore by the end of the month. So he took a deep breath and tried to think positive, to think pink! 

Or something like that.

Gustav sipped his drink. "Oh, by the way, I also brought Advil and cognac. I swear to God, an ounce of Courvoisier will kill any hangover in its tracks. I was thinking of this very scenario, see?"

Georg raised a brow, impressed. "That sounds wonderful. I think after one more of these, I'll be hung-over for a week – but great. Hangover cures are always a good thing."

Gustav sipped more, still eyeing the male hotties around the pool – and especially Paolo. "What if someone made a bathing suit with a built-in dick enhancer? I mean, women have those fucking wonder bra tops that turn an A cup into a D cup, so what if you're, say, five inches and you wanna be eight? Instant Dick In A Cup."

Georg cracked up. "You know, if that doesn't exist yet, you should design those – I'm sure they'd be a great success. And if they DO exist already, then Paolo definitely has one of them. I mean… no one is THAT hung."

"I really should. I bet they'd be a big success in water-based places or playgrounds of the rich and famous. I'm gonna keep that idea in mind."

Gustav was already slightly buzzed. "M'gonna write that down, man."

He glanced over at Paolo, and at that moment, Paolo looked his way – and smiled, a brilliant, white smile, then wiggled a brow.

Gustav momentarily lost the power of speech, but then regained it quickly. "I dunno, Listing. Looks real to me – it's hanging to the left."

Think Pink turned to purple, then black, and Georg was back to glaring. He stared down at his drink – which, incidentally, was pink as well – and sighed heavily. "Great for him."

Okay. So he wasn't surprised that Paolo had noticed Gustav. Gustav was hot. But Georg really didn't like that Paolo was clearly flirting with him. Not only made it him feel alone, it also made him feel strangely possessive. 

Yes, that was it! Possessive. Not jealous. Never jealous. He just didn't want anyone to stare at his best friend like that. And he didn't want his best friend to like anyone better than himself. 

He sighed inwardly. He really had problems. Maybe he should consider therapy as well…

"Fine, he's hung," he said finally. "Good for him."

"Yup. Not as much as you, baby, but for a pool boy, it's not too bad."

Georg looked up when the waitress arrived with their 'amuse-bouches' and gave her a smile; she was cute. If he was still into girls, she'd be the type he'd go for. Cute, delicate, brunette and French. Sounded like an excellent combination. 

Gustav looked up at the waitress too, and smiled – she was cute, even though he tended to like the more androgynous-looking girls. He noticed Georg smile at her and raised a brow. 

"Merci," Georg said, then dug in when she was gone. At least food managed to distract him somewhat, and chased the haunting image of Paolo's impossibly white teeth out of his mind.

When the waitress was gone, and Georg was munching, Gustav ate a celery stick. "Have I driven you to women, now?"

Georg looked up. "What?" He raised a brow and shook his head. "Nah. Just being friendly."

He smiled, then sipped some more and ate.

"Ah, that's it. Is that your type?"

Gustav wasn't jealous, as much as curious. "I guess your boyfriend was kind of a brunette, in the end -- or maybe not. It seemed to change."

Georg shrugged. "It would be my type if I was into girls. And I don't really have a type, to be honest."

Gustav nodded, dipped some bruschetta in olive oil and munched too. "So, we're supposed to work out our interpersonal problems," he said. "How do we do that?"

Georg took a breath, then shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we just…"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Any ideas? Should we email Patty and ask for help?"

"Patty can't know _everything_ ," said Gustav uncertainly, although he was pretty sure she DID. "I don't know, either. Should we review the situation or just get drunk? I mean, we're on our way, but when we drink and… shit, she gave us one bed."

Gustav groaned. "I wonder if that couch is as good as mine."

Georg sighed. "I know, right? I think she has very specific ideas about how we should work out our problems. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd actually installed a camera in that room."

He snorted at the idea, then bit his lip. "If anyone takes the couch, it'll be me. Or we switch – I'll be in the bed one night, then you, then me again, and so on."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we should talk. Well, talk AND drink. But… yeah."

Gustav thought for a long moment, then snorted. "She probably has us livestreaming for her pervy friends. And who knows? Maybe we'll get far enough along in our personal development that we can actually sleep in the same bed with no issues."

He wiggled his toes in his flip-flops. "Okay, so let's talk. You start."

Georg took a breath and thought for a moment. "I'm not sure what to say. But let's see… You're my best friend. I love you. I don't want to ever lose you, and I want our friendship to be the way it used to be. I… yeah."

He rubbed his chin, then looked at him. "Your turn?"

Gustav listened, stirring his drink with a straw. "You're my best friend too, Geo. You have been since our second day of Academy. I don't ever want anyone else to be my partner or my bestie."

He gave him a little smile, then nodded. "I want things to be okay again. I don't know when things changed for me, and I know it was me, but I couldn't help myself. I felt what I felt."

"And that's okay," Georg said softly. "It doesn't bother me, you know? I just want you to be okay when you're around me, you know?"

"I _am_ okay around you – I hate to be the one to tell you, but you were the one who started things the other night. I knew it was wrong, I wanted to stop, but when you're half-naked and lovey, it's damn hard to say no to anything you want. And I still can't."

"I know," Georg said. "I know it was my fault, and I know I shouldn't do it.

He was silent for a moment. "I just wonder why it's suddenly…" He trailed off and tried again. "You know… I've been incredibly snuggly lately, and… well, the kissing and all that stuff. I just wonder why I suddenly can't make myself stop doing that. I'm not that drunk, usually; not drunk enough to forget what I'm doing. And it's not that I'm upset over Tom either. I mean, I am, but I'm not looking for a substitute. I just…"

He shrugged; he really didn't know what was going on with him.

Gustav looked at Georg seriously. "I was serious about what I said. You were, are, the first person I ever loved, or wanted. And as much as I wish otherwise, you don't want me. Not like that. So it's evil to be all over me."

Georg wanted to really discuss what his sudden thing for Gustav could be, but he realized that that might give Gustav false hope, and… no. He couldn't say anything like that unless he was absolutely sure, if that ever happened. But he couldn't hurt Gustav like that again, so no. He would get over this little thing on his own. 

He took a breath. "I promise not to touch you again. Not like that anyway. Not in a seductive way. There. So if I stop doing that, you'll be okay?"

"I'm not trying to blame you, Hagen. I'm just being honest. And yeah, that would help. Cause you just have no idea what being that close to you feels like. I mean, obviously you can't know that, and I… fuck."

He rubbed his neck. "I love Bill, I will always love him, but you are… you're different. And I have to get over you, so that's what I'm doing, you know? Slowly."

Georg had a pretty good idea what it felt like for Gustav, but he didn't say anything because he doubted Gustav would believe him. So he just nodded and licked his lips as he reached for a cigarette – his first that day! – and lit it. 

"Okay," he said softly. "So we need boundaries. You tell me. What's okay, what's not? Kissing is obviously not. But what about hugging, snuggling… I don't know. You tell me what I can and can't do, and I'll remember it from now on."

Boundaries. Gustav hated boundaries. They were confining and they made you trip in the dark.

He stirred his drink a bit more, thinking. "I've gotten okay with hugging," he said slowly. "And even when you're snuggly – I like that. I like petting you, playing with your hair – obviously – and just being close. We've been like that for years. But I can't kiss you. I can't touch you more than a hug, or a clap on the back, a punch in the arm."

Gustav swallowed. "If I kiss your lips, or your neck or anything like that, I… my mind plays tricks on me. It tells me you want me -- want me like a lover, not just a plaything. I WISH I could be that to you, but I can't."

He kept going, now that he was on a roll. "Being with you, what it feels like, is like – imagine being as happy as you ever have been, imagine feeling loved. Imagine how Tom made _you_ feel."

Georg looked at him, then reached over and touched his hand gently. "Okay," he said softly. "I get it. No kissing, no touching, no getting too intimate. I promise I'll keep that in mind."

He gave him a little smile, then bit his lip. He wanted to feel that too. All of that, so desperately…

Gustav nodded, and turned his hand over to squeeze Geo's. "So will I, and we'll be okay. Okay? I love you, more than you know, and I know you love me, so it's gonna be fine, right? It will be."

"Oh… you two _are_ together?" A husky, slightly accented voice interrupted them and Gustav looked up to find Paolo, The Pool Boy smiling down at them. "So sorry, I was hoping that you were single. I love blondes."


	11. Paolo

Georg had felt better for all of two seconds – until that slimy Paolo came over to them and actually talked to them. _Flirted_ with Gustav, too. 

_I was hoping that you were single. I love blondes._

Georg grimaced – who did he think he _was?_ Georg resisted the urge to punch him in the face and just gave him a disapproving frown. He wished Josie was nearby – because she would probably agree with him about the fact that Paolo wasn't good enough for Gustav, and that he should stay away. 

Josie was safely locked away in their room safe, but Georg would be happy to know that she twitched in her holster when someone other than him came near her beloved Gusti. Bill, she had tolerated, and Patty could wrap her in swaddling blankets and sing her a lullaby, but if anyone other than Georg or Gustav tried to fire her, she'd react.

Bloody beach bums.

"Yeah, we are," Georg said before he could stop himself. "We are together. So move along."

Gustav's eyes widened and he gave Georg a LOOK. "We're friends," he said, smiling back at Paolo. "He's possessive – childhood issues you know, only children, what have you."

His shaking-hand was free and he extended it. "Hi, I'm Gustav."

Paolo gave them a knowing glance. "I'm Paolo," he said with a smile. "I work here, and in the dining room and wanted to welcome you to Belle Rives – it's a very beautiful place, as you can see."

Georg looked back and glowered again, sliding down in his seat as he continued to direct nasty looks at Paolo. He couldn't stand the guy – why was Gustav flirting with a guy like that? Sure, they were on holiday but…

"We're CLOSE friends," he said then. "So close that we might as well be married. So…"

He gave Paolo a warning look that plainly said that he would break the neck and every other bone of anyone who ever hurt Gustav. 

He sighed. "We figured out that you work here, and yes, it's a beautiful place."

_Would be even more beautiful if YOU weren't here._

"Plus, we're eating, so ..."

"I see that." Paolo looked amused, the way hot guys who are humouring guys they consider less hot than themselves do. "And married, you say? How progressive."

He smiled sweetly. "So I will say farewell for now, Gustav and Might as Well Be Married. Have a lovely afternoon, and perhaps I shall see you at dinner."

He walked away, making sure his ass was well-displayed.

Gustav leaned back. "Married?"

Georg glared until Paolo was gone, then folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. "Yeah. Married. You're my partner and best friend. That's almost like marriage."

He was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Why HIM? Look around – there are countless hot guys here. Why do you have to flirt with the one I have a really, really, REALLY bad feeling about?"

He pouted a little, looking at him desperately.

Gustav rolled his eyes. "Because he's hot and I find him attractive. And so what if he's a little… well, slimy? I'm not gonna marry him, especially since I am apparently already married, but just not getting any."

He ate another bruschetta. "Come to think of that, that's my life. Committed and not getting any. Fuck."

Gustav looked at Georg and shook his head. "So, say I meet a not-slimy boy. Are you gonna scowl at him, too?" 

Georg shrugged. "I guess not," he said, though he was pretty sure he would find any guy who flirted with Gustav slimy. Bill was an exception because he was, well, Bill.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just… This is our vacation, you know? I don't want you to meet someone you fall in love with and then spend time with him rather than me."

He shrugged and looked down. "I guess I'm jealous and possessive. I can't help it."

Gustav would have gone "Awwwww," if he thought he could get away with it, but Georg might beat him soundly. It had happened before and he usually kind of enjoyed it.

Gustav scooted his chair closer and slid his hand onto Georg's neck, under the sproing, and rubbed his skin gently. "You're right – it is our vacation, just for us. And you can be any way you want."

Georg looked up at him, shivering a little at the touch. He managed a little smile. "If that guy gets all slimy on you again, I may have to punch him. Just a warning."

He wrapped an arm around Gustav and leaned back, then sipped his drink.

Gustav gave Georg's neck a brief squeeze, then moved to lean against Georg, in the circle of his arm, still sipping his own drink. "So, I see a group of four women over there," he said, peering through his sunglasses (prescription, of course) and nodding. "How many of their boobs are fake? You have twenty seconds."

He hummed the theme from "Jeopardy," while he waited for Georg's answer. He saw eight boobs and guessed five of them were fake. Yes, five. One pair was lopsided and he couldn't make the call.

Georg squinted. "I would say… the redhead is real. The others are fake. What do YOU think?"

He nuzzled Gustav, then sipped more of his cocktail, pondering. Maybe he needed glasses. He'd been squinting rather a lot lately.

"Yeah yeah yeah."

Gustav took another look, then nodded, confident of his first appraisal. "I agree, the redhead is real, but the two blondes? The left one is rockin' both fake hair AND fake boobies. The other one's hair is real, but boobies are fake. And the brunette? Either she had a bad boob job, or those puppies are real and she had a very odd growth spurt. One is a B, one is a D. Tragic. At least her ass is thuuper."

Then he looked at Georg. "So, Squinty McSquinterson, is that your final answer?"

Georg snorted, then raised a brow at him. "Hmmm… No, the brunette is real too. I mean, if she had a boob job, they would be the same. She wouldn't want to run around like this on purpose. Unless she DID have a boob job and one of her implants burst."

He snorted and gave him a grin, then rubbed his eyes and slid his sunglasses back on.

Gustav grimaced. "Ewww… why don't women leave the boobs alone, anyway? I mean, they're not my thing, per se, but it would seem that 99% of them are just fine the way they are. Honestly, people kill me."

He paused. "Well, not yet. But you know what I mean. And you do know that you've been squinting, right? You should get your eyes checked, dude. You need 20/20 for this job. Appraising boobs is crucial."

Georg sighed. "Yes, mum, I do know that. I may need glasses; no need to rub it in. Not everyone looks as hot with glasses as you obviously do."

"And I have no idea," he said, shrugging. "If I were into girls, I wouldn't mind if they were tiny. Actually, small boobs can be more beautiful than big ones. And as long as there's something to touch, who cares how big they are?"

"Well, they do say more than a mouthful is a waste," agreed Gustav – who then blushed. "I mean, that's what I hear."

Still blushing, he added, "I bet you broke a million female hearts when you came out. I broke none – in fact, my sister said she spoke for all girls when she said "Thank God." I'm not sure she was kidding, either. Also, I look like a geek, a dweeb, a doofus. That's my look."

Georg raised a brow and laughed. "Well, you do have a point there. When I was 'straight' – or as straight as you can be when you're gay – I used to prefer the small-breasted type. But anyway…"

"I think whatshername that I dated in high school was kind of medium. I do know that she ditched her bra the second she was at home. Couldn't really blame her; I tried it on once and was not impressed. I mean, the bra was pretty - it was orange lace – but it didn't do a thing for me. I was chubby - well, chubbiER – then, and I had moobs, so still uncomfortable. Fortunately, the waters receded to give me the manly chest I have today."

Georg was snickering and needed a moment to recover. "I'd love to see you in a bra, honestly. I bet you'd make even THAT look sexy. I can't picture you with moobs, though. Hmmm…"

"Oh God, it was not sexy. Not at all. In NO WAY was this sexy, trust me."

Georg grinned. "I say it was."

He eyed Gustav for a moment, then felt his forehead. "Did you say you looked like a geek? You're hallucinating. You're in no way geeky. You look great. I mean it. I love the glasses on you; you have the face for it. Patty thinks so too."

He bit his lip, then grinned. "Yeah, we discussed all sorts of things while TofuMuncher was there."

Gustav shrugged. "I'm used to the glasses now, and feel weird without them."

He sipped, then eyed Georg. "She does, huh? What else does the All-Knowing Patty think?"

Georg pondered. "Well… she does think you have the best butt in Hamburg – maybe Germany and the world, too. I completely agree. And um…"

He shrugged. "Dude, I don't know. We talked about everything. I found out things about her I didn't necessarily need to know."

He snorted, then sighed happily when their food finally arrived. He wouldn't be surprised if Cockaolo had done something to delay the arrival of their meal. Asshole. 

"God, that smells delicious," he sighed, staring down at his plate.

Their food DID smell delicious, and Gustav sighed. "We're gonna be so full AND so drunk."

Then he raised a brow. "She does? Dude."

Gustav was pleased, and beamed, but was still curious. "Well, you can tell me about stuff if you want. I'm interested."

Georg then tasted a bite, sighing. "It doesn't just LOOK good; it tastes good, too. I'm gonna be fat when we leave this hotel. Need to see if they have any sport stuff here – I bet they do. They seem to have everything. And yes! We'll be drunk and full, and then we can take a nap when we're done. And possibly try out the sauna and whirlpool in our room."

He grinned and wiggled his brows, and after a couple of bites, he paused. "Well, she did tell me that she lost her virginity at sixteen, and that the guy was ten years older than her. Then she told me her favourite sex positions – and dude. She's acrobatic. I was speechless for about an hour when she'd explained them all to me, and she was just sitting there, snickering."

Gustav was glad he didn't have a mouthful of _anything_ when Georg told him about Patty's acrobatic sex life, cause he might have choked. "Dude," he managed, then cracked up. "Did her date pick her up on a brontosaurus? And 26? He was ancient for that time in history."

He grinned and shook his head. "So she's limber and I have a stupendous ass. I'm liking these conversations so far."

Georg cracked up. "Don't say that when Patty's around." He grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, they were pretty interesting conversations. Some of the things I heard were downright shocking and others made me realize how awesome Patty is."

He smiled and continued eating, then looked around. "I still can't really believe we're actually here. I mean, when's the last time either of us has been anywhere?"

"She really is. She should run the world." Gustav smiled, and nodded, looking around. "God, I don't even know the last time I was anywhere other than home – well, anywhere I wanted to be." He thought back to Green Valley and shook his head. He really didn't like to remember the time he'd lost all control of his life. Not him.

"Oh, did I tell you I brought pictures? And no, not porn -- pictures of us over the years. One day I got sappy and actually put them all in order, in an album. I call it the Evolution of The Psychic Hair."

Georg raised a brow and shook his head. "No, you didn't tell me… oh God, you didn't."

He snorted but then smiled. "We can look at them later, okay? I don't think I'll be able to do much more than that after this lunch."

"I did, but I'm gonna wait till you're completely vulnerable and all that good stuff." Gustav nodded, then had to smile. "You're so cute early on. Not that you're not cute now, too, but you know how it is."

Gustav munched happily. "We're definitely going to have to work all this food off," he agreed, then privately thought it was too bad that it couldn't be worked off with Patty-level, acrobatic sex.

He sighed then, and took a belt of his drink. Drunkeness had to get a good start.

Georg smiled. "You were cute too. Still are, of course, but… you know what I mean."

He smiled, then finished eating and his drink as well. "Okay, so… do you want dessert or should we go up now?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking adorable." Gustav was now drunk, he realized, and didn't care. He wasn't usually wasted before 2 pm, but hey, they were on vacation.

What was far worse, he realized, is that he was horny. Like, extremely so, and that couldn't be good. Damn his libido – it had never made his life easy, and apparently wasn't going to start now. Fuck.

He finished his drink, and boy, that rum had settled to the bottom. Mmmmmm, rum orange slices. Oh yeah.

Gustav stood up – then grabbed the table. "M'fine, not drunk at all. Georg, stand up and let me lean on you."

Georg snorted. "You need to lean on me but you're not drunk? That sounds logical."

He grinned and stood up, swaying a little as well. "Damn, those cocktails…"

He slid an arm around Gustav and sighed, holding him. "Okay. One step at a time, dude."

"Maybe I just like the way you smeeelllll," Gustav said with dignity. "Or yer sproingyspringyygygygyy hair. I blame… the Cap'n. Cap'n Morgan."

He leaned on Georg and sighed. "Lead on."

Georg snorted, then started walking towards the elevator – stairs were much too dangerous right now. He pressed the button a few times, then leaned against the wall. "Ugh… you're heavy."

"Am not. You're just gettin' weak. Where's my big, strong Hagen, huh?"

"Hey, I'm still… strong and buff and powerful and… yeah."

When they were in the elevator and the doors closed, he pondered. "You knooow... do you think it's a good idea, the two of us drunk in a heart-shaped bed together, hmmm?"

Gustav tried to punch him in the arm, missed, and hip-checked Georg instead, right into the wall. "Duuuuuude. And no, iss like a really BAD idea. You mih jump my gorge… gorgjus bones. Cause yer like that," he added, waving his finger in front of Georg's nose. "Also, yer nose isss pointy."

He smooched it, then leaned against Georg, propping himself up.

"Yeah… I like that," Georg murmured. "And shut up about my nose. It's perfect."

He slid an arm around Gustav to steady him and looked down at him through half-lidded eyes.

Gustav looked up. "Kay kay. Iss perfect."

Inside Georg's arm had always felt so safe – it still did, and Gustav sighed, unintentionally. Why couldn't he have Georg, and Bill, and Paolo and just all the boys he wanted? Why?

Georg tucked Gustav's head under his chin and kissed the top of his head, sighing softly. "You smell good," he murmured, then blinked when the elevator arrived on their floor. "Oh. I guess we have to move."

"Mmm, do we hafta?"

Georg paused for a moment, then picked Gustav up pretty easily, threw him over his shoulder, which made Gustav giggle. "All I nee is a… is a… ridin' crop. Go horsie, go!"

Georg managed to carry him all the way to the room without falling, then dropped Gustav on the heart-shaped bed. Gustav tossed off his sunglasses – he'd already gotten some sun. He looked up at Georg and gave him a sweet smile. 

"Tarzan," he said.

Georg looked down at him adoringly and had to smile. "Tarzan, huh? Are you Jane, then?"

He raised a brow and smiled down at him, not moving away.

Gustav pondered. "Ony if he's a he/she," he said softly. "Cause I'm pretty sure that I'm a guy. You can check if you don't b'lieve me."

He stretched and then peered down the front of his trunks. "Yep, dick. Mystery solved, so yay, 'nother case closed. Way closed."

He smiled back up at Georg.

Georg looked down at him and smiled. "I never doubted you had a dick. And you can be my very manly Jane. My John."

He snickered and sighed. "I'm such a dork when I'm drunk."

He was still hovering above Gustav and couldn't seem to make himself move, so he just smiled back.

"Tarzan and John?"

For some reason, that just cracked Gustav up and he roared until he fell off the bed, then lay there on the carpeted floor and giggled like a seven year old until he had to breathe.

"Gay rights in the jungle! Apes marry lelefants! An… tigers. An… snakes and… jungle boys. Mow… Moe? Mowgli, thassit."

He giggled again then lay there. "Oh God, I could pee m'self."

Tarzan aka Georg peeked over the edge of the bed and smirked. "Well, don't. I'm sure we'll have to pay if you get yellow stains into the carpet."

He looked down at him and sighed. "Will you stop being so fucking cute now? Otherwise…"

"Yeah, don' think Patty planned for that," Gustav said, then grinned. "Am I bein' cute? An what you gonna do?"

Georg smiled. "Yeah, you are. And I think you know what kind of thing I'm gonna do if you keep being this fucking giggly and adorable."

He reached down and brushed a finger over Gustav's slightly red nose.

Gustav sighed. "We'll haf… acrobatic, drunk sex an' hate each otha later?"

He sighed. "I'm horny," he whined. "I really need to get some. My balls are… turk… turquoise!"

Georg reached down, took Gustav's hand and helped him back onto the bed. "You have turquoise balls? Huh. Mine are more like… purple."

He rolled onto his side and looked at him. 

"I want to have sex with you," he murmured. "Fuck, I just want to kiss you."

He bit his lip and looked at Gustav's lips.

Gustav looked at Georg thoughtfully.

"kay," he finally said. "Okay, okay. We can… okay. Okay. We talked, rih? We did. An… we're drunky. So, uh… we should get a freebie. Okay? We can celebray not havin' sex anymore by havin' sex! An then… we stay straight. I mean, gay, but not wif each other, see?"

Gustav thought this was an awesome plan and beamed.

Georg frowned a little and raised a brow. "Um… I'm not sure if that made any sense but…"

He sighed. "I want to have sex with you. I really do. But I don't think it's possible for you – or both of us – not to regret it the next morning, so maybe we should just… look at those pictures instead, and… yeah."

Gustav pouted, not happy at all. "But I'm horrrrrnyyyyy."

Georg sighed and stroked his hair. "I know, baby. But you'll thank me later."

Gustav didn't seem convinced but only about five minutes later, Georg knew he'd made the right choice because Gustav had passed out on his shoulder and was snoring happily, his supposedly turquoise balls forgotten. 

Georg lay their next to him, listening to his friend and partner's breathing in silence, then got up and went on the balcony to have a smoke. He took his laptop and checked for possible emails – but Tom hadn't written down his thoughts yet. 

Georg tapped his fingers on the table and just sat there, thinking about him and Tom for a long moment. He knew he should break up with Tom and… set him free, so to speak. But at the same time, he wasn't ready to let him go. 

But if there was ever a perfect time to get over someone, it was now. He was on vacation with his best friend; there was an endless amount of cute guys here… he might actually be able to get over Tom, while at home, he would be thinking about him day and night. He hated the idea of being the bad guy – he hated hurting people he loved. But he also knew that one day, sooner or later, Tom would meet someone else, and while that thought hurt him right now, he knew it would be the right thing. 

He clicked 'New Email' and pondered before he started writing. 

_Dear Tomi,_

_It's been a couple of days since we spoke, and a lot has happened. I had a fight with Gustav that made him ask for a transfer. The boss denied his request and Patty came up with an ideal solution – and sent us on vacation. It feels good to be away from everything that reminds me of you; it's painful to think about you all the time and know you're so far away._

_So I'm sitting on the balcony of my suite in France right now, and I'm going to be here for a month. So if you need to reach me, call my cell rather than my regular phone – or email. In fact, emailing might be easier because hearing your voice makes me miss you so much._

_I've been thinking about us a lot and I still don't know what to do. I love you, and nothing is ever going to change that. I want you to know that and I can't stress that enough. I love you, forever. I wasn't lying when I said that. Our conversation from the other day didn't really end well, and I'm sorry I made you cry._

_I do however think that we need to come up with a solution. I'm not planning on seeing other people but having a boyfriend and not being able to hold him, kiss him, touch him, or even have a face-to-face conversation with is getting more painful every day. Normally, I wouldn't be discouraged by a long-distance relationship. If we were talking about two or three years, I could handle that. I would wait for you and be here for you when you got back._

_But since neither you nor I know whether you're ever going to come back to Germany, I think it would be best if we either had an open relationship or a sort-of hiatus. It's hard for me to write this, or even only think about it, because the idea of never seeing you again or kissing you is almost unbearable. But I also have a feeling that it's the right thing to do. I want to give us both the chance of maybe meeting someone new. I know you're going to say you're not interested in anyone else – neither am I, Tomi. But who knows what'll happen in a month, half a year, three years? You can't predict the future, and if we're really meant to be together, then… we'll have your school breaks (though you'll probably be doing internships, right?) and will get back together when/if you come back to Germany._

_I hope you're doing well, and that you don't hate me too much for even suggesting this._

_I miss you._

_Love,_

_Georg b29;_

It took another five minutes before Georg finally managed to make himself hit 'send' but when he did, he felt relieved. He knew he'd made the right decision. Tom might not get back to him for weeks because he'd be upset and hate Georg for a while. But eventually, they might be able to be friends. 

And who knew what the future would bring? Maybe they'd get their happy ending. 

He closed his laptop and finally went inside, smiling to himself as he saw Gustav's sleeping form curled around a pillow. He went to the bathroom, then flopped down next to Gustav, wrestling the sheets out of the other man's firm grip, and a few minutes later, he passed out as well.


	12. Never Tickle A Geo In The Early Morn'

The next morning, Gustav woke with three things… a killer hangover, a butt pressed against his own, and morning wood. Oh joy.

However, he could take care of all three things rather easily, and did so by crawling out of bed gingerly – which got rid of the ass issue – making his way to the bathroom to take two aspirin and four cups of water – and wanking quickly, sitting on the toilet. He didn't think of anything except sensation.

And then was very proud of himself for that.

He got into the shower, slowly feeling human again, and scrubbed up, then dried and wrapped a towel around himself, then padded out to the main room. Georg was still snoring.

Gustav shook his head and flipped on the news, out of habit. It was all _en français_.

Merde.

Georg sat up suddenly and blinked, looking around. He scratched his nose, squinting at the bright light, then groaned, flopped back down and pulled his pillow over his head. "No work," he muttered, still half asleep. "Don't wanna."

Gustav snorted. "We're not working, Char. We're on vacation, remember? All-expense-paid, luxury, so what if we have to share one bed vacation!"

He grabbed Georg's bare foot and tickled it.

Georg was not a morning person. He was also very ticklish. So when Gustav started tickling him in the early morning, Georg wasn't exactly pleased. 

"Aaah! No! Stop it, you wanker!"

Georg squeaked and tried to roll away and pull his foot out of Gustav's grip but couldn't do it. He was terribly ticklish, and when he tried again to jerk his foot away, it went forward instead – straight into Gustav's nose.

"OWWWWWWFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!"

Gustav dropped Georg's foot in a real hurry, and jerked back as the blood started to stream from his nose, which was now decidedly askew.

Gustav grabbed for something, anything to stop the bleeding, and got Georg's t-shirt. He tried to stop the bleeding, but his nose hurt too much.

Georg blinked and sat up abruptly, gasping when he saw all the blood. 

"Oh my God! Oh God, Gustav, I am SO sorry!"

He crawled over to him and stared at him. "What do I do? Hospital? Is it broken? Fuck, Gusti… I really didn't mean to – my foot just twitched, and I couldn't…"

He licked his lips and looked at him worriedly.

"I shink sho," muttered Gustav. "I shink iss buhroken. Can yoush call ta front desshk? Mayhbee they got a doctor."

He patted his nose and winced. Hungover AND with a broken nose. Hello, vacation!

Georg winced. "Oh love, I'm so so so so sorry. I will, of course."

He crawled back to the nightstand and grabbed the phone, calling the reception. He talked to someone for a moment and they said they'd sent up a doctor in a minute. Georg hung up and went back to Gustav, looking at him helplessly. "Do you need some ice, or… fuck, I've never had my nose broken and I don't know what to do!"

He sounded as if he was about to cry. "Oh my God, I broke your nose…"

Then there was a knock on the door and Georg blinked. "Wow, they're fast here."

He ran to the door, opened it, almost dragging the doctor inside.

"Isshhh okay, Hagensh," Gustav managed. "Ilsh buh alrish."

He couldn't reassure Georg any more than he had, cause speaking was difficult.

The doctor was swift and efficient, setting Gustav's nose – and eliciting another "fuuuuuuuucksh!" in the process – and then cleaning up the blood. A bandage of sorts completed the process, and thankfully, the doctor spoke English – Gustav was good with English.

He was given three day's worth of pain medication, given some other minor instruction and the doctor left, leaving a decidedly Toucan-esque Gustav in his wake.

Georg hovered above them, nervously biting his nails and whimpering at the sounds of pain Gustav made. When the doctor was gone, Georg sat down next to him and took Gustav's hand. "Are you okay? Does it hurt? I'm so gonna make this up to you. Call me Slave – I'll do anything to make you forgive me. God, I'm such a clumsy idiot!"

He petted Gustav's hair, looking at him worriedly.

"I'm okay," Gustav murmured. "Just hurts a little. Or a lot, but that's what these babies are for." He shook the bottle at Georg. "M'gonna take these, drink a sea breeze or four, and lay in the sunnnnn."

He touched his nose gingerly. "M'not mad, Hagen – it was an accident, dude. I forgive you."

He absently smoothed a curly lock of Georg's hair.

Georg took a breath. "Okay, if you're sure. But I really am sorry. But then again … it was your own fault." 

He grinned. "Never tickle a Geo in the early morn'."

He smiled, then leaned against him and stroked his hair. After a moment of silence, he snorted. "Good thing I didn't kick you in the groin, though, isn't it?"

"I will keep that in mind." Gustav touched his nose and winced. "I didn't think you'd respond quite so violently, mon frère, but now I know."

He leaned against Georg too, and let his friend pet him, then snorted. "If you HAD, I would have had to lay by the pool for a week and let Paolo tend to me."

He smiled sweetly.

Georg sat up and scowled. "Well, good thing I got your nose then."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "So, are we going to the beach today? Or pool? I'm all for the beach, though. Never been a big fan of pools and pool boys."

Gustav laughed, then tugged the curl. "I had to say that, you know. The moment was ripe."

He stood up and stretched, then rubbed the back of his head. "Ah, look how dashing I am," he said, then sighed. "Sure, the beach is fine. I vote for a clothing-optional one, so I can watch people and make jokes at their expense. And, of course, so I can be naked."

He nodded. "Make sure you don't get sand in your crack. It's hell to get out."

Georg snorted. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, stretching. "Maybe I should tape it shut. I don't like the idea of people ogling my asshole."

Gustav cracked up. "I brought duct tape," he offered. "I could tape your butt shut, but then you'd be out of luck if you have to poop… and you will."

Georg shook his head and got up as well. "So, we need towels, sunscreen, sunglasses, maybe a parasol, unless they have them there to rent or whatever, and a book or the trashy magazines I got us yesterday."

He nodded, then went into the bathroom to pee, brush his teeth and wash his face. "Oh," he called out of the bathroom. "And breakfast; hotels like this always have the most amazing breakfast buffets – can't miss out on that!"

Gustav collected stuff he would need while Georg got cleaned up, and then picked up his tote bag – it had TEAM JACOB on it. 

"Mmm, breakfast buffet…"


	13. Flirtations And Jealousy

He collected stuff he would need while Georg got cleaned up, and then picked up his tote bag – it had TEAM JACOB on it. 

"Mmm, breakfast buffet…"

Georg snorted at the bag and packed his own stuff, then pulled on some clothes and his curls back into a ponytail. "Okay, ready to go!"

"Snorteth not," said Gustav loftily. "Werewolves beat the fuck out of pasty vampires any day. And Taylor Lautner's abs are God-given."

He tripped off to the dining room, his flip-flops making a satisfying thwacking sound on the floor.

At the buffet, Gustav silently thanked Patty one more time, then chose a table and started loading a plate. 

Georg laughed as he watched him. "Honey, you do know that you can take as much as you want, right? You can always go back and get more."

He shook his head and started loading his own plate, making sure it was not _too_ full. 

"I knew that." Gustav flushed a little and went back to the table. "It just looks really, really good."

Georg grinned, satisfied by Gustav's flush. "Hey look!" he said after a moment. "They even have champagne here." 

Gustav looked up. The champagne was tempting. "I think I'll start with an OJ 'cause I need lots of ENERGY TO HEAL."

Satisfied, he dug into his omelette, sighing happily. 

Georg flushed at the reminder that he was the reason Gustav needed to heal, then made his way back to the buffet to get some orange juice for both of them. He came back and took a sip, sighing contentedly. 

His joy didn't last long; when he looked around, his face darkened because he spotted – who else? – Paolo. That guy seemed to be _everywhere_ , god dammit. 

Paolo spotted _them_ too, and hurried over, his bronze pecs flexing. "Gustav, love, are you all right? What happened?"

… even though it was obvious, even painfully obvious, as it were.

Gustav looked up. "Georg kicked me in the face," he said in his most pitiful voice. "I was giving him a sweet wake up and he went all Jackie Chan on me and broke my nose."

He sighed. "Now I can't look pretty like I wanted to."

Georg actually growled when Paolo approached them, and gave him a weak glare. "He's fine. I'm taking care of him." He turned to Gustav. "And you look perfectly pretty to me."

Paolo pulled up a chair and touched Gustav's shoulder. "You do look pretty, mon chéri – you could not look otherwise."

He smiled sweetly at Georg, enjoying the glare. Gustav rather enjoyed it as well. 

Georg sighed, then looked down at his now empty plate. He didn't want to leave Gustav alone with that slimy bastard, but he did need food. He gave Paolo another glare, then stood up and walked back to the buffet to load his plate, making sure not to take his eyes off Gustav and Paolo for more than a few seconds. 

"You're sweet," Gustav sighed. "But now I don't feel pretty at all. Not like Hagen, you know? He's just gorgeous."

Paolo smiled. "I happen to think you're much prettier. Though if you two were up for… how shall I say… a ménage-à-trois… I wouldn't say no."

He smiled sweetly. "I was thinking; if you ever want someone to show you around a bit, maybe tonight? I'd like that very much, mon amour."

Georg wasn't back yet, but if he had been, he would've punched that motherfucker in his abnormally large dick. 

"Really?" Fuck, Georg was missing this. There obviously was no God. 

"Well, I'm up for lots of stuff, but my friend is more traditional. I'll work on him, though." Gustav nodded, then looked thoughtful. "I would love to see everything, though," he added with emphasis on 'everything'. 

He looked up when Georg came back. "Paolo would like to show us everything," he said innocently. "Wouldn’t that be awesome, Geo?"

Georg stared at him and growled again. 

Paolo didn't look pleased. "I actually meant that I'd like to show _you_ around, not both of you. But…"

"Oh, no way," Georg said, finally finding his voice. "I'm not leaving you two alone. No way."

Georg growling was the best thing Gustav had ever heard, he decided, and had to work hard not to grin from ear to ear.

"Oh! Just me? I'm sorry, I misunderstood. I think that would be…"

But Georg interrupted them, and Gustav sighed. "Geo, what could POSSIBLY happen? You're so odd; first you kick me in the nose, damaging my pretty face – WHILE WE ARE ON VACATION WITH BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, HELLO! And then you deny me the companionship of someone who finds me simply lovely."

God, this was way too much fun, and he smiled sweetly, and bit into a muffin.

Georg stared at the two of them, feeling angry, jealous, and possessive, on top of complete HATRED for that stupid Paolo guy. He took a breath and sat down, staring at his plate for a long moment. He wasn't sure what to say – well, he WAS sure what to say. He wanted to say OVER MY FUCKING DEAD BODY but he knew that he couldn't technically forbid Gustav to go out with whoever the fucking hell he wanted. 

He rubbed his face, then looked up and shrugged, sighing. "Do you really _want_ to go out with him?" he asked, ignoring Paolo completely. "Cause if you do, then I guess the only thing I can do is tell you that I greatly dislike him, don't trust him, and think something's wrong with him. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Paolo folded his arms and grinned as he looked down at the two men, clearly enjoying the fact that Georg was NOT happy.

Gustav watched Georg's face and could swear he saw those same words scroll across his brain… then felt a little guilty, 'cause Georg looked both pissed and upset.

That was not the point of this whole trip.

"I'll keep it in mind," he said, looking up at Paolo. "I appreciate the offer, thank you."

Paolo was still smirking and Gustav sighed. "I'll let you know – have a good day, okay?"

Paolo nodded. "You can find me anytime," he said cheerfully and walked away, making sure his sweet ass was in full view. When he was out of sight (if not out of mind), Gustav drank some juice and eyed Georg. 

"Well then," he said, and waited for his friend to say something.

Georg looked at him gratefully. "Thank you," he said softly, even managing a little smile. "I mean, if you do want to go out with him, then I'll try to get over myself but you know my hair-instincts. He's just… not a good person."

He bit his lip and looked at him, feeling bad for denying Gustav some fun – but he really, honestly didn't trust Paolo. "Do you want some more orange juice? Or anything else?"

"I don't," admitted Gustav. "I kind of just wanted to see you get all pissed and hot. Sorry, I'm just evil like that, as you know."

He sighed happily, and ate some toast. "Yes, I want a whole other plateful cause I am a piglet -- an evil piglet. I can get it though – you just sit there looking hot and annoyed as fuck, okay?"

Georg raised a brow. "I'm hot when I get angry? Huh. Well, good to know."

"You're hot all the time, you bastard," sighed Gustav. "What's it like to be so gorgeous, huh?"

Georg grinned. "I don't know. You tell me." He got up. "And no, you sit. You're the one with the broken nose. Just tell me what you want and I'll get you everything."

Gustav pondered, then smiled. "Everything should just about cover it, so I'll leave it to you to just pick and choose what looks good. You know me. I'm easy ... in every way."

Georg laughed. "Don't I know it," he said teasingly, then stood up to get more breakfast. 

"Being hot is exhausting," Gustav called after him. "I mean, keeping track of all THIS is tough stuff."

Other patrons eyed him and he smiled sweetly, and they smiled back.

The rest of their breakfast passed without any unwanted interruptions, Paolo or broken bones, and with their stomachs full, they finally made their way to the beach.


	14. 70 Is The New 40

Sometime later at the beach – which _was_ clothing optional – Gustav stripped down immediately and started coating his cock with zinc lotion. 

At Georg's look, he grinned. "Waxed, baby. Free to tan alllllll overrrrr."

Georg snorted as he watched him. "I should've brought my thongs. I don't like the idea of being completely naked in front of those perverts over there."

He grimaced, then stripped anyway, making sure to put sunscreen everywhere – cock, balls, ass, ass-crack...

"Hagen, they probably think you're the pervert," Gustav said, settling on his beach blanket. "But they still want to shag you senseless."

He watched Georg lotion up and snorted, then lay back.

Georg laughed. "And they wouldn't be wrong about that, would they? And they totally want to shag _you_."

When he was done, Georg spread out his towel and flopped down, sighing happily. He rolled onto his stomach and looked over at him. "Nice wax, by the way."

"Nah, my appeal is limited to chubby chasers. But you've gotten three silent marriage proposals, despite your huge bush." Gustav nodded. "And thank you! I decided to suck it up and go for it – no regrets. Makes my cock look huge, yeah?"

He admired it. "It looks like a light-saber right now."

Georg grinned, looking down. "I love my bush," he said cheerfully. "My cock never gets cold. Right now, it's getting a little hot, though. Maybe I should get a wax too. I'm sure they have some eager ladies who'd like to take care of getting rid of all that hair down there."

He leaned back, then giggled. "A light-saber, huh? Nice."

Gustav rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Someday, someone will be giving you head and get lost down there, form a small society. And you'll look down and see tiny naked warriors with spears dancing around your cock in the firelight."

He made a few light-saber noises and sighed happily. 

Georg smirked and shook his head. "You're adorable and I love you. Now shush."

"I know you do, Chief Big Dick. And I love you too."

Georg grinned and closed his eyes and managed to be silent for exactly half a minute before he let out a sigh again. "It's gorgeous here. You gonna swim later? Or will it be too painful with your nose and the salt water and everything?"

"I want to try," Gustav said. "I can dog paddle or get a floatie."

He sighed. "I like this. Let's never go back."

Georg thought for a moment. "Staying here permanently would be awesome, but I don't think we could actually do it, because we love our jobs too much. We'll miss it in about two weeks and we'll have to go back because we loooove Patty. Also, why aren't all people here as hot as we are? I mean, I really don't want to look at people like that guy over there. Ugh."

Gustav leaned back, thinking. "You are correct, sir. And I don't know why they're not hot either. It seems wrong, huh?"

He grinned, then sighed. "I'm baking like a tater, bakin' in the sun…"

Georg slid his sunglasses on and sighed. "This is perrrrfect."

Gustav sighed in agreement. "Yes, yes, it is."

He lay there, and sighed. Heeeeaaat.

Georg closed his eyes, and they actually both managed to be silent for about an hour. 

Then, Georg rolled around and groaned. "Too fucking hot," he breathed, sitting up. "I think I'm gonna go into the water. You wanna come?" 

He paused. "Come with me into the water, that is."

When Georg stirred, Gustav blinked; he'd been dozing. "Sure, I'd love to come," he smirked. "Or go into the water, either way."

Georg grinned. "Okay, excellent."

He pushed himself up and stretched, then slid his hand in front of his cock, shielding it from the perverted eyes of two elderly women lying a bit away from them. "Um… Water. Now."

He poked Gustav's side, then ran, not stopping until he'd stumbled into the water and came up again, gasping. "Fuck, I thought it would be warmer."

Gustav sat up to watch Georg's hot little ass and cute bouncing testicles jog into the water. And they said Hagen wasn't one of the seven wonders of the world.

Bah. He begged to differ.

He got up and wandered into the water, tipping an imaginary hat to the other nude bathers, then joined Georg. "Wow, it's brisk out here, huh?"

Georg snorted and brushed his hair back. "It is. My balls are tiny and shrivelled and… "

He snorted. "TMI? I don't care!"

Gustav snorted. "There's no such thing as TMI, babe – my balls aren't exactly ripe and round at the moment, but dude, the cold water on my crotch? Fuck, that's amazing!"

Georg sighed happily and swam away from him, splashing him a little. "We should've brought a ball. Or rackets, or… well, something to play with. We really need to go shopping, dude."

Gustav looked sideways at Georg. "You have two balls to play with – they come with the original package. But yes, shopping is definitely in order."

He kept his head above water and paddled around.

Georg grinned, then dove and did a headstand, his cock and balls – oh, and legs – out of the water. He came up again a moment later and grinned. "It feels amazing? Hmmm… okay, I'll check out if they can wax me at the hotel. I wanna feel it too."

He grinned, then laid on his back and floated on the water.

God, Georg was too fucking cute, and Gustav sighed a little inside. Maybe he should let Paolo take him out after all, get his mind off any stray… feelings.

He looked towards shore and almost died. "Dude, those old ladies have binoculars and just saw more cock than they ever have before. You're gonna be the high point of their life!"

He bounced up and down in the water, spinning around like a top. 

Georg squinted – damn his fucking eyes – and tried to see the ladies, then groaned. "Oh God. Maybe we should go to another beach tomorrow. They look like they're about to come over here and jump both of us."

He sighed and shook his head, then grinned at Gustav.

"Don't look now then, squinty. And be glad you can't see anything, cause we're about to get propositioned."

And they did, by Clara and Eugenie, from Portland, Oregon, USA. They were first-time travellers in Europe and loved these beaches, and especially all the fit young men.

They invited them to dinner that night, and Gustav glanced over at Georg, much amused.

Georg snorted, then looked to Gustav for help – as nice as these ladies were, he really just wanted to spend his time with Gustav. He hadn't gotten rid of Paolo just to spend time with Clara and Eugenie now. 

"Sorry, ladies," he said with his most charming smile. "Maybe we can have a drink at some point but we have business to discuss at dinner."

Lame excuse, but oh well.

"Ohhh," said Clara, giving her friend a knowing look. "You're a couple – that's so cute and progressive!"

Her saggy breasts bounced, and Gustav tried hard to not look. "Yes, well, it's a European thing, I guess. But a drink would be lovely, maybe tomorrow?"

The ladies were agreeable and swam back to shore, while Gustav ran a hand through his hair.

Then Eugenie swam back. "Pardon me for being a nosy old lady, but how did you break your nose, dear?"

Gustav had nearly forgotten his nose _was_ broken. "Oh… rough sex, you know. Georg is kind of spazzy when he's aroused."

He smiled, and she blushed. "Oh, you boys."

She swam away again and Gustav smiled sweetly at Georg.

Georg had blushed and was now staring at Gustav. "You really won't ever change, will you? ALWAYS mentioning sex when you're talking to strangers about me. Why is that?"

He grinned and shook his head. "But dude. How rough would sex have to BE to get your nose broken?"

He snorted but then grinned. "They were adorable, though."

"Nope," said Gustav cheerfully, splashing himself. "They think we're fucking anyway, so it gave them a thrill. And I mention it because I want you so bad."

He splashed more. "The best way to get a broken nose would be during 69," he continued. "One false bite or tickle and there you go. I bet half the world's broken noses come from 69 and half from soccer, guaranteed."

Georg snorted. "That might be true, yeah. I've been lucky enough to never have been bitten."

Gustav looked after the ladies. "Yeah, they were like cooler versions of my grandma. I liked them. Clara's hot for you though, so watch out. She wants to show you that 70 is the new 40."

He nodded.

Georg groaned. "Oh God. While they're really lovely ladies – 70 is definitely not the new 40."

He grinned and splashed him. "So should we go back to the beach for more sun? Or maybe we should get a parasol – you're already a little red on the shoulders." Then, his grin widened. "I could put some more sunscreen on you – we could give the ladies a show!"

"They'd get a fuck of a show when I come all over you," grumbled Gustav. "Cause if you start massaging my dick, I will and that will be a whole new issue for you."

He looked up at the sun. "I need more lotion, and maybe an umbrella might be good. And a drink – I need a drink."

Georg snorted. "I wasn't talking about massaging your dick, you dick."

He laughed, then shook his head. "But sure. Let's go back to the towels, I'll rub your back, you lay in the sun and I'll get us drinks and an umbrella."

He jumped back into the waves, then made his way back.

Gustav stuck out his tongue at Georg, then paddled into shore, looking, he was sure, like a Greek god, coming out of the waves. Perhaps Croissant, God of Muffins and Other Baked Goods.

He had no problem going and grabbing an umbrella and set it up while Georg – still shielding his privates, the dork – went off to get drinks.

Georg was back ten minutes later – he'd been propositioned by some old dude, and had almost had to use violence to get the semi-drunk man to stop following him. Eventually, he'd given up, and was now back, handing Gustav another huge drink. There seemed to be only one type of glass in the whole region here.

"Cheers," he said, lifting the glass with both hands and grinning.

He looked up. "Lovely umbrella, by the way; did it have to be pink?"

"Yes," said Gustav from underneath the umbrella. "I liked it and it was pretty. And whoa, more huge drinks!"

"It is pretty," Georg agreed. "And yeah, apparently you can't get any normal-sized drinks here. Not that we'll complain, right?"

"Nope. No complaining here." Gustav took the drink and smiled his thanks, then glanced over at the old guy. "Got a new boyfriend?"

Georg groaned. "Yes. Apparently only old people have any interest in me. It's quite frustrating."

He grinned, then sipped his drinks and sighed happily.

"Hey, look, the old people around here just appreciate a hot body, is all. And… do you want someone to have interest in you?" Gustav bit his lip. "Cause if I'm cramping your style…"

Georg raised a brow at him and laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, you're not cramping my style, and I don't want to meet anyone. This is our vacation, remember?"

He smiled and sipped more of his drink.

"That's what I thought," replied Gustav, feeling better immediately. "Just wanted to make sure."

The sun and the drinks got the better of them after a while though, and they retired to their room for cool showers and a nap.

Gustav flopped – still naked – onto the bed. "I never want to leave. We need to move here."

Georg flopped down on the couch that was almost as big as the bed and leaned back, putting his feet on the coffee table. "I don't want to leave either," he murmured, leaning back and closing his eyes. "But in a month, we'll probably be bored and itching for a good case, so, let's enjoy the month we have, and then we'll see."

He grinned.

"I bet there are cases here," said Gustav from his spot on the bed. "I mean, there's all kinds of people here, so there must be evildoers."

He sounded like Mermaid Man from SpongeBob, and snorted at that thought.

"Evildoers like Paolo," Georg agreed – because he just couldn't help it. He grinned, then stifled a yawn. "So… nap?" he asked as he got up to flop down beside Gustav, stretching as he slid under the covers. "Nap, then dinner, then more sleep. And then tomorrow maybe some shopping and sightseeing."

Gustav groaned. "You're obsessed – and I think my cock got a little pink, or maybe I've just been abusing it too much."

Georg had to grin. "I know, right? And I think my dense bush filtered the sunlight a little and protected my cock from pinking."

Gustav moved over so Georg could get in. "You know this is twisted; one hot, virile man, one guy who looks like Patrick from SpongeBob, in the same bed, and NOT fucking. Patty is sick."

Georg snorted, then raised a brow. "Knowing Patty, she probably expected us to fuck. Pervy woman," he said fondly, then pulled the sheets up to his chin, already getting sleepy.

Gustav rolled on his side, feeling like he wished they COULD. But never again, he knew that. He knew who Georg loved and it wasn't him.

He sighed and rested his head on the pillow, thinking.


	15. Waxing And Waning

The next day, they did indeed go shopping. From the hotel to the shopping strip in town, Gustav got hit on three times, and Georg twice. 

"Fresh meat, I guess," Gustav said as they reached the first boutique. "Or else the Riviera is full of chubby chasers."

Georg wasn't surprised that people seemed to find Gustav more attractive – he _was_ , in Georg's opinion. Sure, Georg had the hair and everything, but that wasn't everyone's thing. Gustav, however, just looked hot. Period. 

He looked around and smiled. "Don't be so modest. You look cool. I pale in comparison."

He grinned, then looked at the boutique. "So… what are we buying?"

Gustav snorted. "I'm so not cool – and you of all people know that. And I need swim trunks. And… I don't know what else. I'll figure it out."

"How about a bikini wax?" Georg suggested, pointing at the beauty parlour that was across from the boutique. Then he paused. "Oh wait, you already have one. But I don't. I don't know if I could handle the pain, though."

He followed Gustav into the shop and looked around. "Pink trunks!"

"You know, I think you should! Also, pink shorts are where it's at, compadre. I like those pink ones with the yellow leaves, myself. And you?"

Georg was less than happy at the prospect of having a bare 'downstairs'. Personally, he liked his bush, so he would try to weasel out of that later. The problem was just that it was nearly impossible to weasel out of Gustav's plans. 

Damn.

"Oh yeah, they'd look FABOO on you, honey."

He grinned, then started browsing, snorting when he found a silver Speedo. "Dude. Do you think I'd look as hot in this as Slimy Dickface?"

Gustav rolled his eyes and grabbed the trunks in his size, and then sighed. "I tend to think that anyone who goes by the name of Slimy Dickface should have more problems than what they look like in a silver Speedo. But I think Paolo would look awesome in them. They'd cling to his firm peachy ass just swimmingly, so to speak."

Gustav nodded. "Also, I can see you trying to weasel out of the wax, and don't. You are getting it and liking it."

Georg tried not to scowl at that answer; he knew that Paolo would probably look pretty impressive in this with his huge fucking dick, so… well, that was his answer then. Paolo would look hot, he'd look ridiculous. 

He sighed heavily. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you? Fine. I'll do it – but I can't promise I'll like it. I'll freeze to death when I'm all bare down there."

"Yep, I am. And you will be fine, because you'll lay in the sun, that area will get all bronzed and warm and be hot. And then, any passing guy will drool over you."

Gustav searched and found another pair of trunks – dark red with little white music notes.

Georg raised a brow. "So you're planning to make me sunbathe naked AGAIN? Oh dear. I've shown my bits in public once, and I don't think I can handle getting followed by some old dude again."

He smiled, then patted his shoulder. "I like those. And you look good in red."

"Thanks," Gustav said with a grin. "And you can be naked on the balcony and no one needs to see it."

Georg pondered. "That sounds like a plan, yeah. You might be able to convince me to do that."

He smiled, then looked at the trunks again. "How do I look in orange?" He paused. "What am I saying – no one looks good in orange. Besides, I have enough swimwear, so… you go ahead, and I'll watch and advise."

He sat down and smiled.

Gustav smiled back. "Orange is not anyone's color, and I personally like you in green, but fine. Be my fashion adviser."

For the next fifteen minutes, Gustav paraded by Georg in a variety of outfits, including the silver Speedo, and, in one inspired fit of lunacy, a thong. The show came complete with Gustav’s patented running commentary, and half the patrons in the store were laughing their asses off.

Georg was grinning fondly; Gustav was adorable. In the end, he decided to buy Gustav's swim trunks – and that thong – for him, and smiled as they left the shop together. 

"Please tell me the bikini wax can wait till later," he said before Gustav could open his mouth. "Maybe we should just go for a walk and check out the other shops and places… Do you think they have cool clubs here?"

"Hey, thanks for the swimwear," said Gustav, slipping on his sunglasses. "You didn't have to do that. I'll buy lunch and the…"

But Georg cut him off, and he snorted. "Fine, but you really aren't getting out of this. It will grow back, and given your ability to grow hair, probably by tomorrow."

He swung his bag like he was five, and kept himself from skipping by sheer willpower.

Georg smirked. "No problem. And ha ha."

He grinned, then followed Gustav around town. 

"Hey! Do you want some ice cream?" he asked when he spotted an ice cream parlour. "I'll buy you one. And don't protest – I feel like spoiling you a little today."

He smiled as they approached the shop, staring at all the yummy-looking ice cream.

"Like I would say no to ice cream." Gustav gave in gracefully, and followed him into the shop. "Can I get a waffle cone with a chocolate coating?"

He was ten and knew it.

He chose mint chocolate-chip and sighed happily when they were seated and licking. Georg had an amazing tongue, and Gustav made sure to not stare. Much.

Georg licked his own strawberry and banana ice cream, sighing happily. "This must be heaven," he announced, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Gustav looking at him. 

A moment later, he got distracted when he heard the couple next to them mentioning the name of their hotel. His French wasn't that great but he did understand most of what they were saying. When they started talking about something else, he turned to Gustav and frowned. 

"Did you hear that?" he asked in a low voice. "Apparently some items have been reported missing from the penthouse suite safe and the hotel is trying to keep it quiet. I didn't understand everything but I got that much."

He frowned thoughtfully, his brain coming up with a reasonable (and maybe slightly too over-the-top and dramatic) conspiracy theory; he had a pretty good idea of what was happening. Because even without knowing more facts, Georg _knew_ that Paolo was involved in this. That's why his hair had been itching ever since he'd first seen the guy. He was stealing from the hotel and the tourists. Maybe it wasn't him alone, even, and there was a whole group of slimy guys like him who were robbing poor tourists of their possessions. 

He licked his lips and smirked inwardly, doing a little dance. Apparently, no matter how desperately he needed the rest, he couldn't resist a good case. He was a cop and loved solving mysteries and getting into possibly dangerous adventures.

One look at Gustav told him that his partner was just as intrigued as he was. 

Of course, Gustav didn't know as much as Georg did – he probably still thought Paolo was a good-looking but stupid little hotel boy. 

Ha! As if.

Gustav knew some French, too, though not on the level Georg knew it – had Patty not sprung this on him, he would have broken out some Rosetta Stone and learned more than a few touristy phrases. He desperately tried to recall his high school French, but was stuck conjugating "être" in his head forever. 

_je suis, tu es, il est…_

But he did pick up the gist and nodded, and when the couple was finished and left, Gustav rubbed his forehead. "Your hair is itching and you think it's Pool Boy. Don't you?"

Georg raised a brow. "I do not think. I KNOW. He's involved. Trust me. I'm gonna prove it to you."

He nodded and finished his ice cream. "Okay. So I think it's clear that we're gonna keep an eye on the whole situation, right? We need some sort of plan. But I guess for now, all we can do is watch and ask around a bit."

"He's attractive and charming, so obviously, our chief suspect." Gustav nodded, not even thinking about the fact that they had absolutely NO jurisdiction here; that they were on vacation and again, no authority whatsoever.

Such thoughts never crossed his mind at all.

"Of course we are – and a plan? We will SO have a plan."

Gustav didn't have psychic hair, but he did have a well-developed sense of bullshit and his wee antenna was going nuts.

Georg grinned. "Excellent. Then we'll do that later. Maybe we should have dinner in our room tonight, so we can come up with said plan. After my bikini wax, that is."

He grimaced, wondering why – WHY – he'd brought that up again.

"Sounds good to me – we can plot and scheme." Gustav enjoyed plotting and scheming. "And meantime, we can scout around for more information while being waxed."

He smiled sweetly at Georg and finished his ice cream, licking his lips.

Georg smiled back, looking forward to another exciting case. Vacation? What was that?

Fifteen minutes later, they were inside the beauty parlour, ready to get waxed. Georg was terrified. Sure, he'd shaved his bush on a couple of occasions, but never waxed. Ow!

Gustav could tell Georg was scared – the loitering and chain-smoking outside the salon aside, and the shifting from foot to foot and all that. He could smell fear.

Back in the room, he could feel Josie twitching.

A short time later, they were in robes – ‘cause Gustav was getting a massage while Georg was being tortured – and Georg was ready to bare all for the masked and gloved ladies in front of him. Georg looked beyond nervous. 

"Why don't you sing us a song?" suggested one of the ladies, and Gustav complied, launching into a raunchy version of "I Touch Myself," much to the other patron's delight.

Georg finally took off his robe as well and followed the instructions of the nice lady who was going to manscape him. He was almost shaking – he wasn't good with pain, so… yeah. This wasn't his favourite place to be.

He watched Gustav and snorted.

Gustav reached over and held Georg's hand. "It's like getting a shot, love. Just blink and it's-"

"HOLY FUCK, OWW!"

Georg's yell was deafening, and Gustav couldn't suppress a chuckle. He looked down at Georg's nether, and grinned. "Ooooh, pretty. Smooth!"

Georg turned his head and glared all the while trying to think happy thoughts, then yelped when another strip was pulled off. "I think I'm gonna faint!" he whimpered. 

Gustav squeezed his hand. "No, you're fine. Remember Patty telling you about her acrobatic, prehistoric sex and think happy, happy thoughts. You can do it!"

He listened to the woman and nodded. "Yes, he is very hairy. Yes, he trims. Yes, he is known as Heap Big Bush."

"Shut up," Georg muttered, and yelled again when more hair was removed. He couldn't even look; he had a feeling he was bleeding out down there. 

Yes, he was a big baby. 

When he finally did look, he was impressed. "Whoa! Look at that! My cock looks twice as big as before!"

"See? It looks good," said Gustav with satisfaction. “Told you ... feels amazing right?"

He grinned. "Also, I'm paying."

The ladies who'd waxed Georg – because there'd had to be several instead of just one; Georg had had a BIG bush – found them too adorable and refused money, so after making sure they were serious, Gustav gave them an enormous tip before waiting for Georg to get dressed and join him outside. 

Georg took a deep breath when he finally arrived on shaky legs. "That was terrifying and kind of nice at the same time."

He shivered. "I feel naked. Is that normal? And does it feel kind of sexy for you too? I mean, sure, yours is a few days old, but… does that sexy feeling stay?"

"I know, right? I feel all slippery." Gustav did a little dance in his shorts, then grinned. "It does feel sexy, huh? And your bits look amazing. I want to lick them."

Whoa, whoa, WHOA!

Georg's eyes widened and he stared at him, and considered it for a long moment. He did want Gustav to lick him, but at the same time, he knew it would be a bad idea. He'd promised not to lead him on anymore, so he wasn't going to. 

"As tempting as that sounds," he said, giving him a wink, "We should really discuss the case, don't you think? I think we're onto something here, and we should focus on that."

And they would. 

They made their way back to the hotel in relative silence, and for once, Gustav was glad for Georg’s topic-changing abilities. 

When they entered the lobby, Gustav noticed the manager talking earnestly to the concierge and side-eyed Georg, knowing he was noticing it too.

Gustav wandered over to the desk, casually asking if there were any messages, but he managed to eavesdrop a bit too.

It seemed that a couple of rooms had been robbed and it seemed like it could be an inside or outside deal – one of the rooms had been broken into, one showed no sign of forced entry. Someone was trying to throw local gendarmes off the scent, thought Gustav. He was not fooled.

Georg looked around in the meantime and spotted Paolo outside by the pool. He watched him for a moment, then decided to do more watching later. Instead, he turned back to Gustav and raised a brow when he got back from the front desk. "What is it?" he asked in a low voice.

"Stuff," said Gustav, then pulled Georg into the elevator and up to their suite, which was like a sub-penthouse.

"Okay, the first thing we do is…"

Gustav turned the room upside down and finally found the small camera, hidden in the DVD player. "Ha, fuckers!"

When Gustav found a camera, Georg's eyes widened. "Uhh… wow. Okay. I didn't expect that."

He raised a brow and sat down, frowning. "So… what stuff?"

"Nope, I wouldn't have either. I don't think we're special though – I think all the upper-crust rooms might have them. See, usually only rich people stay up here, not your basic working stiffs."

He grabbed a tissue and gently lifted the camera out of the DVD player. "Fingerprints – grab me one of those plastic bags, will you?"

He slid it into the bag and sealed it. "Okay, so I think all the rooms are bugged with a camera and microphone, so the thieves can get a good look at what the people have – and incidentally, get a thrill from people fucking. We should see if we can get a copy when this is all over – souvenir for Patty. Now," he said, sitting down, "downstairs, they were talking about the robberies – two now. One with no evidence of forced entry and one with splintering around the doorframe."

Georg thought for a moment. "Okay. So we could try to figure out which rooms they broke into, and then figure out which room they have yet to rob. Then we could keep an eye on those rooms all the while watching Paolo. Maybe that's why he looks so hung. He's got jewellery in his silver Speedo, the bastard. Maybe it's a diamond dildo."

Gustav laughed. "Diamond dildo – there is not enough lube. My gut feeling is that they're trying not to create a pattern, and that when food is brought – room service, you know – they get a moment to size up the people and decide if they're worth hitting or not. So other than you and your big diamond pinky ring, we're probably safe."

He paused. "If you and your hair hate Paolo, why do you notice his crotch so much?"

Georg grinned, then raised a brow. "Hey! You were the one who pointed it out! And it's just abnormally big. You can't _not_ notice it."

He huffed, then leaned back. "So… do we have a plan, Evil Mastermind?"

"Not yet," Gustav said, rubbing his chin and giving Georg a promising look as he smirked slowly. "But soon; first, I need food."

Georg's eyes widened. "Food? AGAIN?"

He sighed heavily but gave Gustav a list of things he wanted. He was going to get SO FAT in these three weeks, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to make himself care.


	16. Morning Horror

Gustav woke the next morning with a vague sense of foreboding – and hung over, which was becoming the norm, but he'd worry about his liver next month. But the feeling that something disturbing was about to happen was strong, and he sighed and decided it was nothing coffee couldn't fix. And if the coffee had a shot of Bailey's in it, well, then, so much the better.

His phone rang, and he rolled away from Georg's butt – which was the side of the other man he saw first thing every morning – and looked. It was his mother.

Dear God.

His _mother_ , the Bringer of All News Cheery Because She Said So, Dammit!

"Hello?"

The conversation that followed had him alternately face palming, panicking, pacing, and groaning, and it was this last that Georg woke up too, finding his friend face-down on the sofa, while his mother still babbled away happily on the balcony.  
Georg sat up and brushed his hair back, then frowned. He eyed Gustav, who was not moving. "Um... everything okay over there?"

He rolled out of bed and stretched, then frowned even more when he saw the phone on the balcony. Huh. 

He kneeled in front of the sofa and poked Gustav. "Hey, talk to me. Was it Patty? Did she do that thing again where she just keeps talking and talking?"

He paused. "Oh my God, is our vacation cancelled???"  
Gustav groaned, but then looked up. "No, no. I'm about to lose my mind, and then, possibly my sight, but that's okay. I can get a cane and a dog, or put a leash on you, get you a really bad perm and tell everyone you're my poodle, but no."

He looked over at his phone. "Mum. She told my grandparents that we're here, and now we're supposed to go visit – which would be fine, until you remember that they live in a nudist colony. A _senior citizen's_ nudist colony."  
Georg raised his brows. "Oh. That's all? We said we'd visit them, didn't we, once we knew where we were going? So, what's the problem? I mean, we were at the beach yesterday, and most people there were old too AND naked, so I think we're gonna be fine, no?"

He smiled. "Come on, I'd love to meet your grandparents."  
A sigh was his reply. "We did, we did – it's just that my grandmother forgot I was gay, heard that I was on vacation with a guy and now wants to fix me up with any number of her friend's eligible grandsons. Apparently, several of them are visiting this week."

Gustav rubbed his face. "Can you drown me in the tub, Geo? I will leave you all my dirty magazines and porn downloads in my will."

Out on the balcony, the voice finally paused. "Is that Georg? How fun! Does he still have all that hair?"

Gustav groaned and shoved his face back into the couch. "Kill me now."  
Georg laughed. "I'm not going to kill you! Come on."

He stood up and grabbed Gustav's phone. "Hi, Mrs. Schäfer! Yes, this is Georg. Yeah, we're having a great time. We'll definitely visit them, yes. All right. Yeah. Sure, definitely. Okay. Uh-huh. Yeah – listen, we have to run; breakfast will be over in a few minutes and you know us – always need our coffee in the morning. All right. Definitely – bye!"  
Gustav laid there and listened to Georg, having to grin. Georg was good with people, all kinds of people, whereas Gustav got frustrated easily and snapped. Or was bitterly sarcastic, which alienated the smart ones and confused the dumb ones.

Georg hung up, then flopped down on top of Gustav. "There. That's how you get rid of an annoying mum. And you're going to be fine. I'll make sure you won't get fixed up."

He smiled. "So, when are we going?"

Gustav closed his eyes, then opened them again when Fun Georg With All That Hair flopped onto him.  
Gustav sighed and petted Georg. "After breakfast? I guess the place is just outside of Monaco, so yeah." He sighed more. "I'm gonna be naked in front of the grandparents. I'm gonna see stuff I was never meant to see. I'm going to be scarred for life!”  
He turned his head and eyed Georg. “You? Are good. I hereby appoint you my parental liaison from here on out."  
Georg laughed. "Okay, sure! I can do that. I guess I'm good with parents, so... why not?"

He grinned. "After breakfast sounds good to me, and it IS all gonna be great, I promise. We'll have fun. We'll be the hottest and youngest people there. We might be scarred when we get out of there, but... it could be fun. AND we won't have to see Paolo The Pool Boy for a while, and that can only be a good thing."

He smiled, then went into the bathroom and peed.  
You knew you were best friends when one of you went to pee and didn't even close the door first.

Gustav laid there, the sound of the ocean – and its torrential waves – close by, like really close by, and had to smile. The day promised to be interesting, and yes, fine, no Paolo, so Georg could relax.

When Georg was done, Gustav made his naked self get up and take a shower, then dress in easy slip on, slip off clothes for the coming occasion.  
Georg pulled on his swim trunks and a t-shirt, then combed his hair and pulled it into a tail. He slipped into his flip flops and smiled at Gustav when he came out. "So... we should probably use some sunscreen, considering we're going to be naked all the time. Also – are we coming back tonight, or is this gonna be a several-days thing?"  
"Dear God, it had better be a one-day thing; I thought maybe we could spend the day there, then hit a couple of casinos tonight, win big money, retire, live out our lives in the sun, with cute boys bringing us very large, very alcoholic drinks."

He paused. "That being said, I'm bringing booze – I don't know what the oldsters are partaking of these days, but I'm gonna need some liquid courage."

Georg snorted and pulled his t-shirt off again, handing Gustav the suntan lotion. "Do me?"

"Do me," was a loaded phrase, and Gustav suppressed a sigh as he turned Georg around and began to lotion him up, rubbing firmly and trying not to think bad thoughts.  
Georg grinned. "Gustav... we CAN'T spend the rest of our lives in the sun, no matter how much money we have. We're always gonna want and need our jobs. I mean, we've been here for a few days and we already sort of have a case." 

He laughed. "Let's face it – we're gonna be workaholics till the bitter end. But it does sound tempting. And hey, maybe my hair will prove to be very helpful in a casino."

He grinned. "And yes – bring booze! Always a good thing."

He nodded and closed his eyes when Gustav rubbed his back. He gave him a smile when he was done, then creamed the rest of his body, making sure even his newly-waxed nethers were protected from the sun. 

He suddenly wished he had his bush back – it hid his cock from the perverted eyes of old men and women. But he would be fine. 

Hopefully.  
Gustav snorted; he couldn't help it. "Your hair is now reaching out tendrils – so to speak – into the gambling world? That is spectacular."  
Georg grinned. "Yep. Well, it _is_ psychic, so it might as well make itself useful, right?"

Gustav watched him lotion, then snorted more. "You're having bush-regret, aren't you? Never fear. You look much bigger now! And you were hung to begin with. Also? You're driving."  
Georg nodded. "I am, a little. I mean, I still love how smooth and sexy it feels, but... I could hide behind it, you know?"

He grinned. "And I'm driving? Excellent."

Gustav checked his phone to find that his mother had sent directions, then rolled his eyes and went, with Georg, to have breakfast and go in search of a vehicle. And booze.


	17. All-Nude Grandparental Review

They did find a car after buying a few bottles of wine and beer, and soon, they were on the road to... well, Georg wasn't entirely sure where they were going. But Gustav had the directions and was telling him where to drive, so all was well. 

Eyes on the road, Georg looked for a radio channel with good music, and grinned. "Oldies!"

Then he turned it up and started singing along.

"What, are we there already?" Gustav blinked and then realized that Georg had found Oldies MUSIC. Ahh.

And he was singing. Dear God, Hagen was singing.

Gustav grinned and settled back, and a few kilometers later, the signs and gate for "Shady Acres,” appeared and Gustav sighed. "This is it, Geo. This is where we make our stand, or rather, sit. We have arrived."

Georg grinned. "Oh, do we need to take our clothes off right now? I've never taken off my clothes while driving, but I guess I could do it if I had to..."

"Please – you want to cause an eight-car pileup?"

Georg snorted, then took the exit and found a parking lot. He parked the car, then took a breath. "You ready?"

Gustav sighed. "No. I love my grandparents, they're awesome people, but I'm not sure I'm ready for the full monty. But since we're here and queer and NOT used to it, I guess it's time to do it. But... well, let's see them first; maybe clothes are acceptable. We can only hope."

He got out of the car and was immediately accosted by a naked parking attendant, who might have been in the delivery room when God was born.

Georg stared... and then shifted his glance to up at the guy's FACE, and managed a smile. "Hi! We're here to visit the Schäfers!"

He got out of the car. "Do we, uh... have to strip, or is it okay to keep our clothes on, or...?" He looked at Gustav and gave him a grin.

Gustav was still speechless, and basically had to clap his own hand over his mouth to not say anything wise. He looked over at Georg, then made himself look just above Methuselah's shoulder.

"No, you don't have to strip right here,' said the old guy cheerfully. "You do have to put this placard on the windshield and... the Schäfers, you say? Well, then, let me give them a call so they can come down and get you. Security, you know."

"Oh, of course, right, definitely. Uhm. Okay, so, is uhm, everyone here naked like 24/7?"

"Yep," the guard said, and all Gustav could think was where the fuck would a security guard here, put his gun?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Georg nodded. "All right then. We'll wait here. Oh – and do guests have to take off their clothes? Or do they have the right to stay clothed? I don't really MIND stripping but I do feel a little more comfortable wearing at least a little something, you know?"

He looked at Gustav and snorted – he could imagine what he was thinking about.

The guard got off the phone, then shook his head – and his jowls, moobs and scary scrotal sac shook too. "We encourage everyone to remove their clothes. Clothes are a way to stay hidden, and to some, they feel it puts them a bit above us naturalists, so we prefer it if everyone is unclothed. Levels the playing field, you know? But you can wait till you're with your... grandparents, yes? Oh, wait, you're Gustav, right?"

He beamed at Georg, while Gustav smirked widely – he loved mistaken identity. "He IS, and we were told there were just so many eligible bachelors here for our Gustav. Are there?"

"Actually," Georg said pointedly, "HE's Gustav. I'm just..."

He paused, then wrapped an arm around Gustav. "I'm his partner."

Let the old guy interpret however he wanted.

Gustav glared at him and mouthed, "You're a dirty squealer," then snorted to himself. "Yes, partner," he echoed, just as his – very naked – grandfather arrived, in a golf cart no less.

Despite himself, he had to laugh. "Hey, Opa!"

"Hallo, Gustav! Come give your Opa a hug! And why do you have clothes on?"

Gustav didn't know whether to laugh or cry; his grandfather looked like a basset hound – all over.

He coughed. "Just got here, no worries – no clothes, either, but at your house – cottage – nudie pad, okay?"

Still, he gave his grandfather a hug, who then eyed Georg. "Who's the dude?"

Georg watched them and grinned, then held out his hand and shook Gustav's grandfather's hand. "Hi! I'm Georg, Gustav's partner and friend. It's so nice to meet you – I've heard so much about you."

He smiled, then brushed his hair back.

“Ahh, right. You're the other cop – I've read about you. Well, hop in and let’s get back home!"

Gustav shot Georg a look as he got in beside his grandfather, leaving Georg to hang out in the back.

The short drive was fraught with peril, as his grandfather showed that the Schäfer driving was, indeed, genetic. Geese scattered, and a ribald exchange at the tennis court – holy God – resulted in a small, low-speed chase across two backyards and a koi pond.

Gustav was holding on for dear life, trying to listen to his Opa, who also had apparently originated the Schäfer need to run off at the mouth – and he was just as random, if not more so, than Gustav.

Gustav commented on this fact, to which his Opa replied that it was a damn good thing he'd found his teeth, cause they'd been missing for a fortnight, and playing canasta was hard when you couldn't trash talk.

Gustav glanced over his shoulder with a "See, it’s _not_ just me," look.

Georg was grinning widely and enjoying this immensely. Then he looked out of the window, enjoying the view - and by that, he did NOT mean all the naked old people running around. "It's beautiful here," he said when they arrived and the car stopped. 

He got out and stretched, sighing happily. 

Then he stunned everyone when he just took off his t-shirt and his swim trunks and stuffed them back into the car. He was embracing the nudity, or something. 

The flip flops stayed on, however. 

"Gustav, honey, is that really you?" what Georg assumed was Gustav's grandmother called as she came out of the building and made her way over to him, pulling him into a hug. Then she eyed Georg. "Nice wax, honey!"

Georg flushed and wanted his trunks back.

He felt naked. 

Well... he was.

But he FELT naked, too.

Gustav had just slid out of his seat when Georg got naked. So that made for one naked Opa, a rapidly approaching naked Oma, and a naked Georg.

Well, then.

"Yes, Oma, it’s me." Gustav hugged her back and tried not to think about the two sandbags whacking him in the gut. He tried REALLY hard not to think about that. But her next words killed him, and he barked with laughter, unable to help himself.

"Doesn't he look good? Help me out here. Waxing makes you look bigger, yes or no?"

His grandmother was eyeing Georg, and who could blame her? Gustav smiled innocently at his 'partner.' 

"Definitely! He's a very handsome man. Is he yours? If not, he should be. You could do worse than that, Gustav-dear."

She winked at him, then smiled and cupped his cheeks. "You look good, boy. Have you lost weight? Come, let's sit down, have a drink and talk about everything."

Georg glared at Gustav. "You should take your clothes off too, you know? It's impolite to be so dressed." He grinned.

Gustav didn't have time to say yea or nay before he was being inspected. "A drink would be brilliant," he managed, then snorted at Georg's glare.

"He's right, Stavi... off we go!"

His grandfather swiftly pantsed him, and Gustav looked down at his ween and thought that Patty would be SICK that she missed this – this was right up her alley.

Of course, she would have been naked at the guard house, or possibly, in the car. Maybe she never would have dressed at all.

"Jesus, Opa," he grumbled, but stepped out of his shorts and pulled off his t-shirt, leaving the flip flops on as well. He didn't want foot fungus. Or dick fungus, for that matter.

When he was naked, he sighed. "All right, we're all naked – happy now?"

"Yes. Don't be embarrassed, boy – natural is good!"

His grandparents led them into their wee condo, which, thankfully was Very Clean, and had clean towels for them to sit on. 

"What's your pleasure, boys? Besides cock?"

Gustav almost died and wanted to hide in the Psychic Hair.

Georg snorted, then sat down and crossed his legs, managing to keep his private parts mostly hidden. He didn't feel entirely comfortable with them dangling around all the time. He smiled up at "Opa". 

"Well, since we got here, I've been drinking a lot of Strawberry Daiquiris, but a beer is fine, if you have one."

"I'll get us some beers," Oma said and made her way into the kitchen, coming back with four bottles of German beer. Then she sat down and smiled. "So! What have you boys been up to? Spending the days in bed? I would, if I had a "partner" like that."

She winked at the boys, and Georg flushed.

Gustav popped open his beer. "We're not dating," he said, taking a sip. "Geo likes to sleep naked to tease me, though. He's a bastard like that."

He wished his Opa would cross his legs, but no such luck here at the Nudie Corral. 

His grandfather eyed them. "So... still no love for the ladies?"

Gustav shrugged. "I love the ladies – I just don't want to sleep with them. Or rather, sleeping is okay. Sex is not."

His grandfather sighed. "I hear your brother has a vagina," he said. "I didn't dare ask more last time you Mum called."

Gustav nodded. "It's a tattoo."

"Oh thank God," he said, looking up at the ceiling. "With Gerard, you never know."

Georg watched Gustav when he said they weren't dating, then was distracted by Opa's cock. Dear God, why had he been so enthusiastic about coming here? He had no problem with nudity, but this was a little much. He just hoped that Oma and Opa would be the only people they'd need to see naked today. 

"No love for the ladies, no," he said after a moment. "They're very pretty but don't do anything for either of us, sexually speaking. And yes, a tattoo. It's scary – I've seen a picture."

Oma shook her head. "True, you never know with Gerard. And aw! That's a pity. So you're single, Gustav? Because we do have an incredibly nice selection of eligible bachelors here – you will meet them later. Both of you – I'm sure there has to be one for each of you."

She smiled and sipped her beer, and Georg scowled at Gustav. Great. Now he would have to meet a naked single guy too.

Gustav shrugged. "Well, no harm in looking..."

Then he corrected. "Well, there might be SOME harm. But honestly, Oma, I am fine. FINE. I don't have time to muck around with relationships, especially since I still live in Germany, right?"

He hoped that would deter her, at least a little – he wasn't sure his cock was his best foot forward, so to speak, although maybe if he walked backwards towards the guys, that might help. His ass WAS sweet. But the idea of guys eyeing Hagen did not make him happy at ALL, and his grandfather, noting the look, looked over at his wife knowingly.

Oma nodded at Opa and smiled. "Well, there's definitely no harm in looking. They're very pretty, and definitely well-endowed."

She winked, and Georg snorted into his beer. 

This was going to be FUN.  
"Oma," said Gustav patiently. "It doesn't matter if they're hung like a mule – it's their..."

He paused. "Wait, how do you know? Are you arranging a show or something? On this short notice?"

He eyed his grandmother – from the neck up. "You and Mum did NOT collude on this, did you? Tell me you didn't."

Oma laughed. "Well, they're all sons or grandsons or nephews of people who live here, so when they come and visit, I obviously see them. And I know I shouldn't stare, but some of them?"

She wiggled her brows and laughed. 

Georg grinned – he liked Gustav's grandparents. They were much more fun than his own. 

Gustav looked over at Georg, and said, almost desperately, "Georg, marry me. Here, now. Save me from a parade of naked nephews, I beg of you!"

Georg looked at Gustav pitifully and smiled. "I would, but I don't think we can find a priest before the parade of naked nephews gets here. I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry at all," grumbled Gustav. "At least I close the door when I pee, and even that isn't enough for you."

Opa sighed. "You're such a drama queen, Stavi – always were, always will be too, I imagine. Gerard might have cornered the market on sheer weirdness, but you always camped it up whenever possible."

He shook his head. "Did he tell you, Georg, about his cross-dressing stage? Do you still wear those panties, boy?"

Georg sipped more beer... and choked. "Wait – panties, what?"

Gustav sighed and finished his beer, needing more alcohol, STAT, as they said on Scrubs.

At his grandfather's revelation, he rubbed his face. "I was helping a friend hem her prom dress and your twisted grandson ran with it, is what. And silk panties are very comfortable under dress uniforms, which I have been known to wear when I'm being told how amazing I am. So yes I do wear those panties. And they're blue, just so you know. God forbid you not be informed.”

Georg eyed Gustav and grinned. "Sexy. I'd like to see that."

"That's me – Gustav Klaus Wolfgang Schäfer, Incipient Sex Bomb

Georg could only agree. In fact, his mouth was not the only one telling how much he liked that idea – his cock stirred a little. 

And that was definitely NOT supposed to happen now or here. 

He grabbed a cushion and put it on his lap, then set his beer down on it, pretending he just didn't want the cool bottle against his thighs while in reality, he was hiding. 

Oma didn't miss anything, though, and chuckled. "Whatever you say, darling… now, do you want us to show you around a little? There are some people who've been dying to meet you, dear, and I'm not talking about the young bachelors."

Gustav got up in search of more beer, giving everyone a good look at his fine ass. "I applaud your expat taste in beer," he said, coming back from the kitchen, and seeing Georg’s new accessory.

"Geo, what's with the cushion? You're not allowed to be shy."  
Gustav's ass didn't help Georg in the slightest and he pushed down on the cushion, biting his lip hard. "I'm not being shy," he managed, willing his cock to go down, and soon. He hoped that looking at Oma and Opa would help with that – and after a while, he turned out to be right. His cock went down. 

Gustav was clueless, thought Opa, and had to smile. He wouldn't lie – had Gustav not been gay, he would have looked forward to perhaps great-grandchildren, but since he was, he merely wanted his still-little one to be happy with whomever.

Gustav narrowed his eyes at Oma. "That's exactly what Darling says. And sure, might as well get some sun on the wiener schnitzel. Geo, need more sunscreen?"

"No, no need for more sunscreen. But thanks for asking."

He smiled, then got up. "Let's walk," he said, grateful that his cock had proven to be cooperative today. 

Oma stood up as well. "All right, let's walk a little then."

Gustav didn't think about anything that might make Stavi Jr. pop up and peer around – frankly, he didn't think that was possible here. He hoped not, anyway.

He watched Georg stand up – God, he was beautiful and if anything could stir the Stav, it would be him.

He followed his grandparents out the door, secretly hoping that darkness would suddenly fall.


	18. The Nakedsh Bachelorsh

"This is weird," Georg murmured as they followed the grandparents to wherever they were going. “I kinda feel like holding onto my cock ‘cause it just dangles around all the time."

He grinned, shaking his head.

Gustav laughed. "Think of it as your joystick – and I know you do – or your wee firehose, laddy."

His grandparents' white, wrinkly asses were bobbing along in front of him. "I owe you so big for this," he murmured. "Anything you want shall be yours, I swear."

He looked down. "The Tivas are a nice touch," he added. "Sort of that naked rock-climbing look."

Georg snorted. "You're a dork. But yeah, I guess that helps. And you don't owe me, dude. I'll be fine. Scarred for a few days, maybe, but nothing that a strawberry daiquiri won't cure."

He grinned and slid his hands into his pockets... before realizing that he HAD no pockets. Dammit, this was weird.

"It's nice here, though. Maybe we should consider joining this place when we're old and senile."

He snickered and leaned against Gustav before realising THAT could be awkward, so he stepped away again. 

"Georg, this is worth a vat of daiquiri; I'll rent a tub and have you swim around and drink your way out."

Georg grinned at him. "Seriously? I can't wait to try _that_ out, seriously."

Gustav looked around – as nudist colonies went, he supposed this was nice. "Do you think they mow the lawns, nude? Cause mowing nude, like cooking bacon or barbecuing nude, seems an accident waiting to happen."

Georg grimaced. "Ugh, I hope not. That sounds rather dangerous... ow!"

Georg snorted, then paled. "Oh God," he said after a moment. "Oooh God. There they are. I can see them. Over there – the bachelors. They brought us to the bachelors."

"They DIDN'T. Oh God, they did NOT do this. It's a meat market!"

He paused. "Complete with sausage. Dude, I can't do this."

Georg looked back at the bachelors and grinned. "So, are you ready to tell them truly horrible things and make them run away, screaming?" He wiggled his brows. "I know you wanna... But dude, your grandmother was right – they ARE hung. The sausages are HUGE."

Gustav sighed. "Geo, I don't know if I have it in me to be my usual irascible self – you might have to pick up the slack. And if I DO find my inner nudie, can you hear my mother when she calls ME after Opa calls HER? I'm doomed. Doomed. DOOMED."

Georg laughed and patted him on the back. "You'll be fine," he murmured. 

He eyed the guys, then their dicks. "We should rate them," he murmured, snorting. "On face prettiness AND dick prettiness. We should make a list later... and laugh our asses off."

Gustav tried not to snort, but it was hard. "We will do that. Let's assign numbers from 1-11."

He snickered, then tried to look innocent when Oma turned around. "Oh look, honey, they're here already! Let me introduce you..."

Gustav managed a rather sickly smile as his grandmother began to introduce them to her... erm, friends.

His grandmother started introducing them, and one, Ted, was an American with a rather sweet smile. He got a nine for his peen and a ten for his smile, and Gustav actually spent some time talking to him.

Georg, on the other hand, started talking to Number 7, a French guy named François, who wasn't all that pretty but had a great sense of humor. Well, he wasn't ugly. He was a 7 and his cock was an 8. 

Finally, Georg made his way back over to Gustav and grinned. "So. Spot anything interesting?"

Gustav was a little dreamy. "That Ted guy is cute," he said, then shook himself. "But yes, I have my ratings, and we've been invited to two cocktail parties and one movie night. NUDE movie night – I told them you were my social secretary and to arrange everything through you.

He consulted his notes, which were just... okay, he had no notes, just ideas. "So, overall, I have two nines, three eights, two sixes..."

Georg raised a brow. “Wow, two nines? I don't think I have a nine... I have eights and sevens... and a three for that unfortunate Nico guy over there. Ugh."

"Maybe I'm just feeling generous," replied Gustav, who was reevaluating Nico – he'd gotten a minus two from him, but apparently Georg was still nicer than he was.

Georg eyed Gustav for a moment, then posed. "What's MY rating then?"

Gustav looked over at his friend, trying to be objective, but he just couldn't. Besides, he didn't think he was too off. "On a scale of one to ten, you're like a fourteen," he said honestly. "You broke the scale and tossed it to the wind."

Georg stared at him for a moment, then stopped posing. He gave him a little, almost shy smile and brushed his hair behind his ear. "Thank you. I broke the scale, huh?"

"You did." Gustav looked into his eyes. It wasn't a lie – that was truly how he felt.

Georg eyed Gustav. "Well, if we stick to the 1-10 scale, you're definitely a ten. I mean... you, next to those guys? They all pale in comparison."

He nodded.

Gustav laughed a moment later. "Thank you. I give myself a seven, maybe seven and a half when my nose isn't broken. So you are too, too kind. I think Gregor over there trumps my sorry ass."

Georg shook his head. "No, he doesn't. You're totally a ten and no one trumps you. You're perfect."

He smiled a little, then blinked when Oma tapped him on the shoulder. "So I take it you're not interested in these guys."

Georg shook his head. "No. Not really."

Gustav was thinking about what Georg had said, and blinked. "No, me either. I'm really not in the market, Oma – sorry. I know you were hoping, but I'll find someone when I do, or else I won't. It's no different from boys and girls, boys and boys. It's the same emotions involved."

He gave her a little smile, then waved to a couple of guys and turned, heading back towards his grandparents' cottage, lost in thought.

Georg watched Gustav, then followed him, with the grandparents right behind them. "So! Gustav, you need to remind us again how exactly you two met. You've been partners for how long again?"  
They were almost back at the cottage, and Gustav was grateful, but had new respect for nudists in general. It was not easy to walk around with your junk hanging out and not worry about being judged or... judged.

Once back on their little terrace, he opened another beer – Georg was driving, even if he didn't know it yet – and thought. "Uhm, well, we met in the Academy – same class, at the ripe ages of 18 and 19. We were both at, or near the top of our class, and we joined the Hamburg PD about the same time, right Geo?"

Georg sat down next to him and nodded. "Yep. We were the best. Obviously they didn't want to put the two best together, so they got us both other partners and we worked with those for a while. We didn't see much of each other back then but after a while, we did get put back together, and now we're been partners for... over three years, right?"

"Yeah, three years. Three extremely eventful years, as a matter of fact."

He looked over at Georg who nodded, smiled, then crossed his legs again. 

"Aw, that's nice," Oma said, watching the two of them with a smile. "You know what I think? You two should spend the night here. We have a lovely room you could share, and then we could have a barbecue tonight. It's been so long since you've been here – you really should stay."

Gustav actually didn't mind that idea; it's not like he was gonna need clean clothes, right? And then he could drink without fear. Not that he feared. He looked over at Georg. "It's up to you, dude. We were gonna get wasted at the casinos, but we could do that tomorrow – start with mimosas, move on to Bloody Marys, vodka tonics, then whiskey sours, then beer till we drop."

Opa cracked up laughing. "That's my boy – you have the Schäfer capacity, that's for damn sure." He sighed. "I used to be able to do that… used to."

Georg grinned. "Sure, I don't mind. We can get drunk on beer here, then do a booze party tomorrow and gamble away all our hard-earned money. Sounds like fun!"

Oma smiled. "That's settled then! You're staying. Let me get the room ready for you."

She disappeared with a smile, and Georg gratefully accepted the beer that was handed to him. "Thanks! Cheers! To nudity!"

Georg's toast worked for him, and the three men toasted nudity. It was a common thread.

Gustav grinned. "That's what vacation is for, right? I need you to distract the blackjack dealer at one of the tables so I can rig it and make enough for us to retire, okay?"

Georg grinned back. "Exactly. And I can do that, sure!"

His grandfather raised a brow. "You have a plan?"

"You have to ask? Whose grandson am I?"

Georg sipped his beer and leaned back, slowly getting used to being casually naked around people.

***

Later, after the barbecue, the grandparents went to bed, and Georg convinced Gustav to go over to the pool again to drink one last beer. Before they left, he grabbed his trunks and pulled them on, grinning when Gustav did the same. 

When they reached the pool, he sat down on the edge of it, sliding his feet into the cool water and sighing happily. 

"Dude," he said after a moment. "The things we've already been through during this vacation, and I bet it's not over yet. Also – dude. Tomorrow, we should totally take some pictures and send them to Patty. I think she'd love this."

Gustav was surprised to realize that having his trunks on felt a little weird, and looked up. "It's been a long strange trip indeed." His voice was a wee bit slurred, but he snorted. "You really think Patty wants to see naked old people? Do you think she wants to see her future?"

He grinned. "We shoulda taken pics of the... guys, you know? The nakey ones."

He looked over at Georg. "Didja ... didja like any of them?"

Georg snorted. "Well, maybe she'd enjoy seeing US naked, ya know? She's a pervert and has been staring at us forever."

He snorted. "Paddy would shmack me if she heard me."

He gave him a wide grin, then shook his head. "Nah. Not really. I mean... like, naked guys are always nice to look at, but... not really. Not my type.”

"Ohhhhhhhh," said Gustav wisely. "Ush, you mean. See ush nakey. Maybe!"

He sighed. "She'sh wanna see YOU. Cause yoush pretty an shtuff."

He drank more beer – he had no idea how many he'd had today, but it had been a LOT. His liver wouldn't last through this vacation.

Georg looked at him and smirked. "You're cute when you're drunk. I've prob'ly said it before, but you are. Sheriously."

He beamed and leaned back, sipping more beer. "I bet she'd rather see you. Probably. Definitely."

"I know rightsh? I'm cute as fucksh." Gustav nodded, and swigged some beer. "Nah, shesh rather see you. You're all... buff an' shtuff. I's shaped like a... like a... potato. Yesh."

He sighed and looked over at Georg, wishing they could... well, no. They couldn't. Damn.

Damnsh, rather. 

Georg sighed. "No, you're not shaped like a potato. You're shaped like a Greek god. A Greek god with a belly – but hey, who can prove that they actually look like the statues? No one. So you're totally a Greek god."

He paused, then snorted. "Poseidon!"

He started giggling. "Geddit? Cause your feet are in the water an' stuff."

Gustav snorted hugely at the joke, which he would have enjoyed even sober, but drunk, he found freaking hysterical.

"I shu... shu... should go 'round in a clamshell, an' that's allll," he slurred, liking that idea. "Jush a shelll..."

"You should!" Georg agreed, grinning. "But wait, if you're Posheidon, then who'm I?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Can I be Zeus?"

Gustav looked over at Georg, who definitely was the King of the Gods in his mind, and grinned. "You can ride around nakey, wish jush a thunderbolt, chasin' nymphs and fuckin' princesses."

Then he paused. "Well, I fuckshed a princess, but he wash a shweet princesh."

Georg laughed. "You did! Billi's a total princess. What's the Goddess of Beauty called again?"

"Uh... Afro ...Afroditey," Gustav managed. "Venus, if yur Roman."

"Right!" Georg said, nodding. "That was it!"

Georg scratched his head. "So you should be Zeus! And I'll be Poseidon."

He nodded, then lost balance and fell into the pool. 

"Fuck," he gasped when he came up again, then whined. "My beeeeeeeeeeeeer!!!"

That made Gustav laugh more, and he fell over on his side, then snorted when Georg fell in.

"I'll save you n' stuff!" 

So vowing, Gustav ALSO fell into the pool and paddled after the bottle of beer cheerfully spilling its elixir into the water.

Georg looked after his bottle with a sad expression, then snickered when Gustav swam after it. 

Giving up on the bottle and accepting that it was lost forever at the depths of the pool, Georg took a breath and leaned back, looking up at the stars. 

"I'm your venush, I'm your fire, your desire," he sang, then trailed off. 

"You can see the stars really well from here," he murmured. "It's like... whoa. Did you know that Pluto's not a planet anymore?"

He paused for a moment, biting his lip. "Poor Pluto!"

"Oh Godsh...not babaranna ...bannannaana ... bananannaramaadingdong?"

None of that sounded quite right, so Gustav gave up. "You could be Venush," he offered, then looked up poor Pluto, who had been demoted. "Issn't Pluto the dog in... the mouse dog?"

Georg lifted his head and frowned for a long moment, then shook his head. "You're not making any sense," he informed him. "But I know what you mean! The mouse dog, yeah."

He looked up at the stars again. "Should we be going to bed?"

Gustav scowled back. He hated it when people didn't get him, even if he was drunk and mostly incoherent. That seemed a piss-poor excuse to HIM. He folded his arms, treading water, and scowled more, until he had to sigh. "Problysh. Yeash."

Georg gave him a wide grin, then pounced on him and tickled his belly. "Let's go!"

He smooched Gustav's cheek, then pulled himself out of the pool, which made his trunks slide down a little and bare his ass.

Okay, so even Gustav couldn't scowl when he was being tickled, so he giggled maniacally until he was smooched and left to gape at Georg's ass. Not like he technically hadn't seen it all day, but damn, it just was a _spectacular_ ass. It really was.

Gustav climbed out of the pool with all the grace of a polar bear on meth, then shook like said polar bear, before slapping Georg's ass soundly.

And Georg shrieked. 

Then he slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled his pants up, scowling at Gustav. "Hey! My ass is sensitive - please!"

"Jeshus, Ramona, scream much?" Gustav rolled his eyes while Georg huffed, then slid an arm around Gustav. "Carry meeeee?"

Even drunk, Gustav was random, but he just grinned. "I know, and thash wash a love tap, you pusshhy."

He obligingly picked up his partner and carried him like a damsel in distress, back to the guest room. He quietly – he thought – got dried and dried Georg and got into bed. They were sharing a bed again, but Gustav wasn't worried. They were drunksh.

Georg sighed happily and rolled onto his side, facing Gustav. 

"Night, Gushti. Sleep well."

He gave him a sleepy smile, then was out a minute later.

Gushti patted Georgsh and settled in, poking him in the calf with his toe before crashing out too.


	19. Nude Breakfast And Encouraging Words

The next morning, Georg woke up with his face in Gustav's armpit and a killer hangover. He groaned and put the pillow over his head, then groaned more.

For a moment, he was confused, then realized where he was and groaned a third time. 

He was going to have to be naked for at least another hour. Ugh. Fuck.

Georg's groaning woke Gustav up, and he blinked a few times, having no idea where he was, who he was, or why there was some curly-haired goon moaning beside him. He could only hope the moaning was because of him, but as consciousness – of a sort – settled in he realized that a) The goon was Georg, b) he was hung over, and c) had a big 'ol morning wood.

Then HE groaned and shoved his face in his own pillow.

Georg raised a brow at him, then stood up and groaned again as he made his way to the toilet where he peed for a minute or six. Then he pushed his hair back and made his way back into the bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed and sighing. 

"Sleep well?" he murmured, rubbing his face.

"UGH," said Gustav succinctly, then sat up. "Oh God, my fucking head! Holy shit!"

He rubbed for a moment. "Did I honestly do shots of Stoli with my Opa? I mean, really?"

His grandparents, sitting and having their coffee outside on the screened porch, then heard the following.

"…If you fart, Listing, you are dead to me. DEAD TO ME."

"…I dreamed of unicorns and pumpkins – what was IN that sauce?"

"…You groan like you're eighty-five – that security guard, God's brother, is probably doing jumping jacks right now, while your sad-ass 28-year old self is sitting here, sounding like a cow with the clap."

"…WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU ABOUT FARTING?"

"…Yes, it's morning wood. Yes, you've seen it before, and yes, it is a mighty oak. If you're not gonna do anything about it, shut up."

Georg snorted. "I'm not farting!! And I'm not saying anything, so _you_ shut up."

He huffed, then rubbed his head. "I need aspirin, or coffee; a lot of coffee."

He sighed and flopped down on the bed, sighing even more. "I don't think I can do the casino thing today – being hung over twice in a row is just not possible at this point."

Schäfer Senior – well, MORE senior, was snorting into his coffee; he loved Gustav, would only admit to his wife that he was his favorite of all his grandchildren – and there were several. Gustav was the most like him; tenacious, smart, smart-mouthed, but kind, and he had seen the way he and the other one looked at each other last night – once in a while, sure, but it was enough.

"I don't think we can either – another day. I think sitting by the pool with a lot of ice water is the most I can handle today."

"That sounds absolutely perfect," Georg said, sighing. "Let's hope Paolo isn't working today. Another day with no Paolo sounds just about perfect to me."

Gustav looked over at Georg. "I don’t think I can walk – that unicorn and pumpkin dream was apparently really erotic and my dick has a long memory this morning."

Georg looked over at Gustav and snorted. "How can that have been erotic? Dude. You have a weird idea of erotic. But hey – to each their own."

He grinned and stood up, looking down at his trunks. "I guess I have to take this off for breakfast, huh?"

Gustav snorted. "You and Paolo, honestly – you're obsessed. And I don't _know_ how it could be erotic, and I'm a little worried about that myself, to be honest. “ He sighed. "My mind is strange and wonderful place, Hagen. And no, keep them on. We did our nude duty and waved our weens high."

Outside, Oma looked at Opa and sighed. "They need to do something about their feelings for each other. Am I then only one this is obvious to?"

Opa shook his head. "No, it's very obvious; Gustav, we know, is in love – this boy is the reason he went off the rails, but after meeting him, I can rather understand why. And I can't dislike the boy for that either."

Gustav had finished in the bathroom, and came out then, running a hand through his hair. "Hullo, Oldsters!"

Oma smiled when the boys came out. "Hey you two! Did you sleep well? You look a little hung over – come here and have some breakfast. Nothing like it to cure a hangover."

She smiled and Georg returned the smile, sitting down. "Thank you. This looks amazing."

Gustav sighed. "I am very hung over, thank you very much," he said, "and I had weird dreams, too, but I'm fine. Georg is a cover hog and he was dreaming about something – barbecue, maybe, or sheep – and he was noisy. But other than that, no issues." He sat down in his trunks and began to eat; he was starving, even though his stomach was a little queasy.

"I'm a cover hog?" Georg asked, frowning. "Huh. I didn't know that. You've never complained before."

Oma raised her brows. "Do you share a bed and covers regularly?"

Georg blushed. "Well, we have a suite with just one bed here at the hotel. A heart-shaped bed, actually."

Before his grandparents could say anything, Gustav looked up. "Our mentor and God in human form, Patty, booked the room, the whole vacation, really. She said we had to work on our interpersonal relations, stemming from the fact that I've always been in love with Georg, and he's been in love with everyone BUT me. Patty finds that wrong, as do I, and the single bed is her not-so-subtle cue that we should be sharing a bed regularly."

He poured some coffee. "However, I seem to lack that certain somethin'-somethin' to win his heart, so it’s really just an exercise in futility, waking up every morning with a stiffie and not being able to use it on the person you love most in the world. Life is fun, isn't it?"

Georg swallowed a piece of croissant and looked up at Gustav, biting his lip. "You're not lacking anything," he said after a moment. "I..."

He trailed off and looked down. "I just don't want to hurt you again, remember? Otherwise, I would've jumped you already."

"That makes two of us – I don't want you to hurt me again either. I've done coke, so I'd have to step up to crack or meth, and though this body is mighty, I don't think it can handle that."

Gustav took a breath – he wasn't sure where that outburst had come from, and he was instantly ashamed of himself.

Oma watched them. "Well then!" she said, then paused. "So how exactly did you break your nose, dear? What happened?"

"I was waking Geo up," he said softly. "And I tickled him by accident, and then he flailed and kicked me in the face."

Oma watched the two of them, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. Then she bit her lip. "Oooooh, that doesn't sound good. Are you okay?"

Georg blushed again. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that... again."

He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping the sudden awkwardness would just go away. 

_The person he loved more than anything in the world._ Georg sighed, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. His feelings for Gustav were definitely strong and slowly changing, but he wasn't sure he'd ever deserve to be loved by Gustav.

“Yeah, I'm fine. The hotel doc came up, set it, spoke in a funny accent that I'm totally stealing for my next bit, and then Georg waited on me all day. It was all good. Kind of ruined my plans for seducing the pool boy, but hey, we still have three weeks of vacation left. And don't worry about it, Hagen. I'm fine, and have lived to be an ass another day."

“You're not an ass," Georg protested. "Or if you are, then you usually have a reason to be. Either way..." He sighed and sipped some more coffee.

His grandfather was watching him, and Gustav stared him down – or tried to. "Damn, why do you always win?"

"I learned how to not blink in the war," Opa said, buttering a slice of toast. "Useful skill, that."

Gustav rolled his eyes. "How much money did you win off people in foxholes, where there is no God?"

"Plenty. How do you think I've financed our retirement?"

"Poker winnings?"

"Exactly."

Gustav laughed and got up to help his grandmother clear plates. "You know, Gerard wants pictures of all this – I think you should come to Christmas nude."

“I think we should too,” agreed his grandfather. “That ought to give the kids something to focus on.”

"You don't have to help me, love," Oma protested, giving him a smile. "But I appreciate it."

"I don't mind – if you can feed me and my appetite, I can definitely do the dishes. I'm an old hand at this stuff, anyway.” Gustav followed her into the kitchen and began running hot water, adding dish soap.

She touched his cheek. "Are you alright?" she asked softly. "You love him a lot, don't you?"

He figured that he could handle almost anything except someone being sweet, and when his grandmother was, he blinked. What the hell was the matter with him?

"I do," he said. "I really do, but he is never, ever, gonna love me like I love him. He's just not, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I can't be someone else, I can't pretend. I wanted to leave – I tried to transfer, but the Captain wouldn't allow it. So I can either suck it up, or quit a job I love, the only one I can imagine doing. So I'm stuck."

He washed and she wiped in silence for a moment.  
His grandmother looked at him for a long moment, then took a step towards him and cupped his cheeks. "Listen to me, boy. Your grandfather and I have been watching the two of you for only a day and I can tell that he loves you. He does. You may not see it yet, and he may not allow himself to show it yet, but he does love you, is in love with you. Maybe his feelings aren't as strong as yours at this point, but he's getting there. The way he looks at you? He definitely has some strong feelings for you, but I don't think even he himself has figured that out yet. So... be patient and don't give up hope, love. Okay?"

She kissed his nose and smiled.

Gustav listened, and wanted so desperately to believe her; granted, Oma was rarely wrong, but what if this was the one time she WAS? It would suck to ruin her record now.

"I hope you're right," he said softly. "I really do. I just... I love him. Whether it’s stupid as hell for me to do or not, I do, and I have since Academy."

He finished rinsing. "You should have seen him then – he was beautiful then, too, but he had this little baby face; round cheeks, and his hair wasn't long yet, just starting to grow out, and the curls, oh my God, the curls. He was still... he had baby fat and he was just so adorable, Oma. And then, of course, he got hot. But he always understood me. I might drive everyone else nuts, but never him. He just eggs me on, and I can talk to him, and sometimes? Sometimes it hurts to even look at him because I want him so much."

Oma nodded. "I know, love. But being patient usually pays out, so maybe you should just wait for him to finally get it and realize how much he loves you too. Because you seem unable to move on and just forget about him, so... there's nothing you CAN do but wait anyway, right?"

She smiled. "I'm sure he will figure it out sooner or later, love… and hopefully sooner than later because you two are wasting valuable time here."

The breeze was light, and the cottage small, and Gustav's words carried out to the breakfast table, where Opa and Georg were making small talk; his grandpa had been in the war too.

Georg looked up when he heard Gustav's voice and felt his stomach flutter a little. He glanced down and sighed softly, wishing he could be sure enough about his feelings to actually go for it. But he really didn't want to hurt Gustav, so whether he wanted to or not, he was going to wait until he was sure. He hated hurting Gustav, but doing something and then realizing he didn't really want to, would hurt him far more.

Inside, Gustav sighed. "No. I'm fucked, and not even enjoying it."

He rinsed out the sink and hung the towel. "I figure I’m gonna die alone anyway, so no worries."

He kissed her forehead, then looked at the clock. "We should get going and let you get back to your normal life, since nothing about us is normal."

He walked back to the bedroom and retrieved his t-shirt, and Georg's. "Here, Rapunzel – even princesses can't be semi-naked all the time."

Oma petted him, then followed him outside, sighing heavily when Georg put his shirt back on. "He was really nice to look at."

Gustav nodded. "I know, right? He's gorgeous."

Georg flushed but smiled. "Thank you! But Gustav is right – we're not normal and should go back."

Gustav gave Georg a little smile, hugged and kissed his grandparents, promised to Facebook them – Dear God – and would see them at Christmas. A clothing-optional Christmas sounded about right.

He laughed, then looked at Gustav for a moment and squeezed his shoulder. They said goodbye to the grandparents, and then made their way back to the car.

Once back in their rented car, Gustav drove, quiet, lost in his own thoughts.

Georg glanced over at his friend and wanted to say something, but he honestly wasn't sure what. So he looked out of the window and hoped that the current awkwardness would disappear during the day. 

They got back to the hotel, and when they went inside, Paolo was nowhere to be seen – and Georg couldn't help sighing happily. "All right, let's go grab our towels and come down to the pool?"

Gustav shot Georg a look when he heard the happy sigh, and rolled his eyes. "You and the Psychic Hair are happy, therefore, so am I."

Down at the pool, he put on his own lotion and stretched out, his face turned to the sun, and closed his eyes behind his Ray-Bans. 

Beside him, Georg was on his stomach, his eyes already closed, and all Gustav could do was hope God's – and Patty's – plans would come to fruition.


	20. Waltzing And Melons? Sure!

After they'd had to put their work on hold for a few days, Georg woke up bright and early, ready to spend another day with his partner. This time, his clothes would stay on, and they'd watch the hotel instead. The thieves were more likely to break into the rooms during the day – the hotel guests would be by the pool or at the beach, while at night, they would be closer to their rooms. So they would spend the day watching and making sure they caught them in the act. 

If that didn't work, Georg could always kick Paolo in the balls and make him admit he had something to do with it. 

Either way, it was going to be a brilliant day. 

And while he did want to get started as soon as possible, a brilliant day had to start with a good breakfast. 

"I swear, the food here gets better and better," Georg said cheerfully as he came back with another loaded plate. "Do you think I'm getting fatter? I think I am. I'm getting love handles, dude! Look!"

Not caring that everyone was watching, Georg pulled up his shirt a little and squeezed said love handles. "See?"

Gustav looked up from his plate – his bandages were off now, but he still had a plaster across the bridge of his nose. Also, he had gained four pounds, but who was counting?

He eyed Georg's incredibly sexy little love handles and sighed. "You do, indeed have wee handles. More like drawer pulls than actual handles, but yes. Not fat, just… uhm. Cute."

Georg raised a brow. "You think that's cute?" 

He grinned. "Thank you. You're amazing for my ego and I love you."

He flopped back down and eyed his food, then started eating, not caring about love handles or bellies. Gustav's belly was sexy – so maybe he wouldn't look half-bad with a belly either.

"On you, it’s fucking adorable." Gustav was sure of that, and nodded, giving him a smile. "You're not bad for my ego either, and I love you more. Also, there's your boy. You know all this hate is a prelude to LOOOOVE."

Indeed, Paolo was making his way towards them, taut as ever in a blue Speedo.

Georg looked up and groaned. "Doesn't that guy own any clothes? That's just sad, dude."

He sighed, then looked up at Paolo when he stopped at their table. "Yes. What is it?"

"Why, why, why are you so combative, Georg?" Paolo sat down, unasked, with his coffee cup. "I was coming over to merely say hello to the most attractive men in the hotel. Honestly."

He sipped. "So, what do you two _do_? I don't believe I've ever asked."

Georg raised a brow. "I think you need glasses, dude. But thanks… I guess."

He ate a grape and looked at Paolo for a moment. "I'm a flight attendant. I wear sexy little skirts and make sure people on the plane are happy. Gustav is a stripper – he loves police outfits and is really good in that role. If you're not careful, he might have to arrest you."

He smiled sweetly, flicking his hair back.

Gustav almost choked on his fruit cup – he made at least a small effort to eat healthily – and had to use his napkin to cough into. 

"I do, I really do. I have a breakaway cop outfit that's to simply die for." Gustav sipped some water, planning to smack Georg later. "But really, it's Georg's legs that have men and women both swooning for him."

Paolo lifted a perfect eyebrow and looked back and forth between the two men. "Is that so?"

Georg just grinned. "Yes, that is so. My legs are fabulous, and look even better in a skirt. And Gustav… he really knows how to work with cuffs and… guns."

He snorted and drank some more orange juice, then glanced at Paolo.

Paolo looked interested. "Would it be possible to engage your services?" He smiled at Gustav. "I have a get-together to plan, and you would be a lovely addition to the plan. I imagine you are very, very lovely out of your clothes."

Georg raised an eyebrow. "We're on vacation. And what kind of get-together would this be?"

He leaned back, nudging Gustav under the table and grinning a little. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Oh, I know that," said Paolo hastily. "I know you are, and it would be nothing more than a great, great favor if you chose to do it. I can understand getting away from it all, but you are just a lovely, lovely man, Gustav. Actually, both of you are lovely."

Gustav was upping his imagined beating of Georg commensurately with every passing moment.

Georg almost threw up in his mouth – didn't that guy have any idea how freaking SLIMY he was? Or was he doing this on purpose? Ugh, honestly…

He leaned back. "We'll talk about it and will get back to you, how about that?"

"I suppose that's all I can ask," Paolo sighed, standing up and showing them his bulge. "Do let me know, all right? Ciao."

He ambled away and Gustav sighed. "It's really hard to be a lovely, lovely man. Pass the jam, will you?"

Georg snorted. "I know, right?" he said, handing him the jam. He tapped his fingers on the table and laughed. "I'm glad he didn't want any proof of our professions. I think I actually dreamed about being a flight attendant; that's why it was the first thing that sprang to mind."

He rubbed his chin and looked at him with a smile. "Of course I had to mention you were a stripper – I've seen you do it and happen to know you were born to be one."

Gustav, unexpectedly, blushed. "One time, and I was drunk, and it's not like it did me any good anyway; the person I was stripping for still left the next day."

He bit his lip and spread jam. "You're dreaming about being a flight attendant?"

Georg looked at him for a long moment, not knowing what to say. That he'd probably stayed if he didn't have Tom at the time? No. He'd promised he wouldn't get Gustav's hopes up unless he was sure he wanted him. 

So he sipped some more orange juice and snorted. "Yep, apparently; my dreams have always been weird. You were there, too, by the way. I think you were the pilot."

Gustav knew that whether Georg 'had' Tom or not, he was never going to be wanted by the other man and he wondered, for the nine-hundredth time, why he wasn't good enough.

He would never know. He just had to suck it up.

"Great, well, at least I was something cool in your dreams," he said nonchalantly.

Georg nodded, and realized he should talk about something else – something to do with the work they were going to do soon. 

"So," he said after a moment. "The robberies... how are we going to do this? We walk around the hotel inconspicuously, hoping we'll catch someone as they're breaking into a room, and…"

Gustav snorted. "Us, inconspicuous? Please. You're gonna distract the day manager with your charms while I hack his laptop for a list of exceptionally well-to-do clients. Then we'll case the joint, as they say. Think like thieves. Watch the traffic. Stuff like that."

He scooped out his melon half like he was performing surgery.

Georg looked at him, raising a brow. "Impressive. That sounds like a fantastic idea. I just hope I can distract him. In cases like these, it would be wonderful to have a pair of boobs, wouldn't it?"

He looked down at his flat chest. Then he looked at Gustav's melon and started giggling.

"Of course you can – he's so gay, I bet he wears women's panties. He will love, love, LOVE you." 

He was finishing his melon when Georg started laughing. He looked at it, then Georg, and sighed. "Do I even want to know?"

Georg was still snickering and shook his head. "Probably not – but do you think I'd make a good girl? I could use those melons to build fake boobs, and…"

He started laughing again, unable to stop – even though it wasn't even all that funny.

Gustav just looked at him. "Are you drinking before breakfast again? I mean, I know its brunch, technically, but honestly, lay off the rum, friend. And sure, you'd be a great girl – a little eyeliner, boobs, your legs… you could wear your hair up…"

Georg finally calmed down and grinned. "I haven't been drinking. I guess I'm just high on vacation and being with you and… yeah."

He grinned, then nodded. "I think that could totally work. So if we have to distract a straight guy at some point, I'll totally do that. I'll need your help to get ready but…" He snorted. "I'm mutating into a cross-dresser. How about that?"

He took a deep breath and leaned back, grinning at Gustav.

"Is that it? You're just high on life?"

Gustav snorted, then eyed Georg. "Now you want to do it, don't you, you little perv? God, if Patty could only see you now – she'd lend you one of her Wonder bras."

"I think I am!" Georg said cheerfully, giving him a grin. "And yes, I do, actually. Maybe I've been a cross-dresser all my life and just didn't know about it."

Gustav eyed Georg, who was actually sounding quite mad, as his mother would say. "If you've been a secret cross-dresser all your life, then I really have not been paying enough attention to you lately."

He finished his melon without incident, then leaned back. "I sense a plot."

Georg raised a brow. "You do?"

Gustav patted his stomach comfortingly. "Yes, yes I do. I think another robbery is gonna happen today. You have psychic hair… these flip flops tell the future.

He waved his Courage the Cowardly Dog flip flop at Georg and nodded seriously.

Georg snorted. "Do they? Well, excellent. We should be unbeatable then."

He grinned, nodding. "Do your flip flops have any idea which room it's gonna be? Or will I have to dress up as a girl to find that out?"

"We were always unbeatable," confirmed Gustav. "But no, sadly the flip flops cannot plan – we have to do the planning. So, this is what we're gonna do."

He outlined their plan on a napkin, complete with diagrams and lewd stick figures. "See, it's fail-safe."

"Well, aren't you boys industrious on such a lovely morning." Clara – mercifully clothed – patted Gustav's sunburnt shoulder. "What are you doing, building a better mousetrap?"

Georg looked down at the diagram and had to snort. When he heard Clara's voice, he looked up and grinned. "Gustav's just trying to teach me to dance. Waltz, you know? His plan doesn't look all that convincing, though."

He grabbed the napkins and slid them into his pocket. "And we should get going. Busy day ahead for us, full of shopping, hot guys, and all that stuff."

"If you had my super flip-flops, your dancing life would be so much easier, but no, you stomp around in clodhoppers and wonder where your Prince Charming is. He's on the fucking dance floor, baby!"

Gustav sighed and put his sunglasses back on, eyeing Clara. Her timing had been very interesting indeed…

"Shopping and hot men? If you find a source for such things, do share, will you?"

Clara smiled and ambled away in her spotted muumuu, while Gustav looked after her suspiciously.

Georg watched her as well as she left, and raised a brow. 

"That was… interesting," he said, glancing at Gustav. "Maybe I'm being paranoid lately but… that was suspicious. Right? Or is it just me?"

He finished his coffee and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're just not used to such lavish female attention," sighed Gustav, who also found this odd. "I guess she just wants you. Everyone does."

He pulled on his customary ball cap. "But still, good to keep an eye out, shows you haven't lost your instincts."

He stood up, flexing his toes and biceps simultaneously and then looked down at him. "Ready?"

Georg snorted. "I know, right?"

He stood up and stretched, then wiggled his brows and smirked. "I'm always ready, baby."

He snorted, then followed Gustav out of the dining room.


	21. Georg, The Pretty Whore

They spend the morning prowling around the shopping area of Antibes – Gustav had a weakness for sunglasses and soon had roughly 80 pairs, for what he considered every possible occasion.

When it came time to shop for swimwear – again – he and Georg loitered about the dressing rooms, scouting for gossip, while Gustav made Georg try on half a dozen pairs of trunks, Speedos, and on one occasion, a sparkly thong.

After their shopping session, they went back to the hotel and Georg glanced at Gustav as he spotted the day manager. "Do you want to do it now?" he asked after a moment. "I could distract him with the sparkly thong I just bought."

"Hell, *I* was distracted by that thong, and I'm a rock," nodded Gustav. "In terms of both shape and willpower. So sure, you go be pretty and flirty – toss your hair a lot. He likes that."

Georg grinned. "All right."

He checked his appearance in a mirror, then made his way over to the front desk smiling. "Phew, that was an exhausting shopping trip. You really do have the most amazing stores here. And the town is so BEAUtiful, seriously. I'm quite in love with it."

He smiled at the manager, batting his lashes and, yes, tossing his hair behind his shoulder.

Gustav mentally facepalmed, then admired Georg, who was, in fact, gorgeous, and watched him work while he hung out around the office, then, when the moment was right, appeared to smack himself in the head and head for the office, as though he'd forgotten something.

It shouldn't have worked, yet it did.

Georg continued. "I bought the most amazing sunglasses – for half the price you'd pay for it in Germany. Isn't that amazing?"

The manager smiled, eyeing Georg almost hungrily. "We do have very good prices, yes."

Georg smiled. "Everything here is _fabulous_. I'm actually thinking about moving here permanently. It would be so nice to have a little house by the sea… Not to mention the _men_ here. Gorgeous."

He gave the manager a seductive look and smiled. "So anyway, I bought swimwear. What do you think of… this?"

He pulled out the sparkly thong and smiled sweetly.

Gustav could still hear Georg, and then, when the accountant found a reason to go to the front desk too – presumably to check out the thong – Gustav slipped into the small office and cast a quick, professional eye over the assorted papers, spotting the tell-tale triplicate form on the other side of the desk. Apparently, all departments everywhere used the same supplier. Excellent.

Among Gustav's many little charms on his keychain was a teensy camera, which he used to his advantage now; he probably could have taken one of the copies – there were about 20 per form, but this was easier.

Georg was busy entertaining the growing group of men – and actually having fun. Maybe he and Gustav should go out at some point, and just flirt.

He was still waving the thong around, laughing at the men's jokes and tossing his hair a lot. He hoped Gustav would be out soon – he was running out of things to say.

Gustav was a speedy sort, and a moment later, sauntered out, looking confused. "That was NOT the restroom," he said, slurring his words a little. "Where's the resssroom? Geo? I neesh to peeeee," he muttered, swaying a little over to Georg, who, he noted, looked like he was ENJOYING this, the ass. "Gayorrg, I neesh to peeee. Take me upshtairs, willya?"

Georg sighed heavily and slid the thong back into his bag. "Messieurs, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to take care of my partner. It was nice talking to you. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

He winked, then tossed his hair over his shoulder and walked to Gustav, wrapping an arm around him and half-carrying him to the elevator. When the door closed and they were alone, he turned to Gustav. "Got what we were looking for?"

"You were totally enjoying that, you whore," said Gustav, leaning against the wall. "Another minute and you would have been changing _into_ that thing in front of them."

He sighed and shook his head. "Of course I got it. Can you believe every place in the world uses the same fucking forms?"

Georg gasped. "Whore yourself," he said, then had to grin. "I wouldn't have. But I did enjoy being the centre of attention. I think we should go out, Gustav! When the case is over, of course, just go to a beach party or club, drink a lot, flirt a lot, dance a lot..."

He smiled, then raised a brow. "Okay! Excellent. I never doubted it. So the next phase of The Plan is to check which rooms might be in danger, and watch them. Right?"

Gustav personally didn't know if he could take seeing Georg flirt any more than he had already without dying of jealousy.

"Yeah, maybe," he said nonchalantly, realizing he really _did_ have to pee.

He blinked. "Well, to review the reports and yeah, start loitering. You can flirt with more men if they come by."

"Okay, sounds good. And no, flirting isn’t a good idea when we're trying to be inconspicuous and all that stuff."

He grinned, then exited the elevator and went back to their room. 

"I think we've blown being inconspicuous – now we can only hope we come off as playboy idiots. We're doing well at that."

Inside the room, he uploaded the pics from his teeny camera onto his laptop and studied them…

Well, after he peed.

Georg nodded, realizing Gustav had a valid point. "When do you think would be the best time for them to strike?"

"I think in the afternoon, when people have showered and are going down for drinks, so if we do the same thing… looks like the left side of the hotel got hit yesterday, so they'll go there again. Trying not to make a pattern, see?"

Georg nodded. "That makes sense. I hope they're really as smart as you make them sound."

He smiled, then leaned back. "Okay, so instead of going for drinks," he said, then sniffed theatrically, already missing his huge strawberry daiquiri, "we watch and hope to catch them. Sounds like a plan."

Gustav rolled his eyes. "You can have your daiquiri AFTER we check stuff out, you pansy. Honestly, remember when you used to drink beer?"

Georg snorted. "I blame Patty!" he declared. "She sent us on vacation and turned me into… well, this! Besides, those drinks are fucking fantastic, you have to admit that. And you get drunk after only one while you'd need to drink about twenty beers to reach the same state of drunkenness."

He paused. "Besides, they're yummy."

Gustav looked at his friend and laughed. "Okay, let's blame Patty, cause yeah, the drinks have done us in. We'll go back to Hamburg as alcoholic pretty boys with long, flowing hair, or well, longer hair, and be prancing about with paper parasols in our coffee."

Gustav snorted, then wound a curl of Georg's hair around his finger absently. He studied the pictures and documents for another moment, then shut the laptop down, after naming the file, "Taxes, 2010".

"I bought the perfect outfit for lolling around, AND to wear to Paolo's party, which, by the way, we _are_ going to."

Georg raised a brow. "Did you, now? And what kind of outfit would that be? Are you gonna show me?"

"Oh, I did," Gustav said after a moment, now wishing he had a fish-tank-sized banana daiquiri, himself. He reached for a bag and dangled it in front of Georg. "Wait till you see."

Georg nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan."

Gustav stood up. "Okay, I need the bathroom for a while, so if you gotta piss, go now."

Georg grinned, then watched him curiously. "Okay, dude, do I even want to know? And no, I don't have to piss. I'll just wait until you're done."

He eyed him, then leaned back and waited.

Only Georg would consider his prediction a goal, thought Gustav as he trudged into the bathroom. He couldn't believe the lengths he'd go to for a case, even on vacation.

He changed into his own thong – dude – and tight silver shorts. He sincerely hoped that muffin tops really WERE in. He accessorized with a pale pink Hello Kitty t-shirt that said "RAWRR" on it.

The box said it took five minutes for a pale pink color so Gustav applied the dye and waited. After only two minutes, it became apparently that fuchsia was his fate, and he rinsed his head. He had dark pink tips on his hair now and…

Dear God. He really, _really_ needed a drink. Now.

He exited, and posed for Georg. "What do you think?"

Georg had just poured himself a drink and was now actually _drinking_ it when Gustav came out. He stared at him for a moment, then choked on his drink, started coughing and laughing at the same time, and then went back to staring. 

"What…"

Gustav sighed. "Mock me if you must," he said with injured dignity, "Here I am, drastically out of my comfort zone, all for the sake of truth, justice and the non-American way."

He folded his arms. "I see no drink for ME, and fuck knows, I need one."

He went to the minibar and mixed himself a ginger and whiskey, then sat down on the couch. "Dude, my hair is PINK. Patty will never get over it. You might not either, by the looks of it."

Georg was still snorting. "What… what are you planning to do in that … my god, is that a Hello Kitty t-shirt? I mean… the hair is actually pretty cool – I like it. Pink is your color. But the t-shirt? Dude, are you trying to look innocent or something? Cause you don't need a Hello Kitty t-shirt to look innocent."

He sipped some of his drink, then shook his head, and went to get his phone. He took a picture of Gustav, then grinned and sent it to Patty.

"YES, it's a Hello Kitty t-shirt and really?" Gustav looked in the mirror. "Okay, I guess with my big brown eyes, long lashes and full lips, the pink looks good. But yes, innocent, a little slutty, kind of wacky in a good way…"

He sighed when Georg took the picture, then sighed MORE when Patty sent back a picture of herself on the floor laughing, along with the caption, "Don't give an old lady a heart attack, for fuck's sakes!"

Georg smirked over the message and picture, then looked back at Gustav. "Yes, actually – your eyes, long lashes and full lips make you look like a little cherub. Very innocent, indeed. That outfit makes you look…"

He tilted his head. "I don't know. It's kind of sexy in a really weird way."

Gustav looked at the picture. "She's loving every second of it, and has probably already sent this picture to the printer for several life-sized posters to display when we come home."

He shook his head. "It's a good thing that I have a well-developed sense of self, is all I can say. And seriously?"

He took Georg's drink from him, shook it around, and took a sip. "Jesus, have a little mixer with your booze, will you, you alky?"

He sipped his. "So, will Paolo love this or what?"

Georg grinned. "I think he will. He's got a crush on you already, and well, I'm pretty sure he'll jump you the moment he sees you, so it's a good thing I'm coming with you. Also – can I have my drink back now? Thanks."

He grinned and flopped down. "So, are you gonna keep that on while we watch them? Cause… dude. I think this is just about the opposite of inconspicuous."

Gustav shook his mostly-pink head. "I've given up inconspicuous – we were shit at that anyway, and then today's matinee at the front desk convinced me that you were born for theater, so I feel good about this."

He looked down. "Well, not good. Content. Complacent, sort of okay."

He paused. "Okay, I look fucking ridiculous and we both know it. I think it's touching that I sacrificed MY looks for this endeavor, however, while you are simply tanned, with full-bodied, sproingy hair and barely noticeable, wee, hot handles. So let's talk commitment to the situation."

Georg laughed. "I may be born for theatre. I was good, huh? And it was fun. Maybe I should consider going to Hollywood. Or doing porn on the side, supplement my income."

He grinned, then looked at him for a long moment. "You do look a little ridiculous – but I was serious about the hair. It really does suit you. You should keep it. And hey! Are you saying I'm not committed? I'm totally committed."

"You were excellent and it worries the living fuck out of me, frankly." Gustav sighed, then looked over at Georg. "We should BE committed, that's for damned sure. And really?"

He went over to the mirror to look at himself and sighed. "All I need is a bloody headband and a pair of roller skates."

Georg cracked up. "That would totally complete your outfit, seriously. But seriously... the hair is cute."

He leaned back and sipped his drink, then let his eyes wander down to Gustav's ass - which looked fantastic in those tiny little shorts. Mmmmmmhh...

Gustav rolled his eyes, but was secretly pleased. 

He sipped his drink too, and then looked over at Georg, who, goddamn, was so beautiful...

"I'm thinking of getting more tats," he said casually. "On both arms, the same design. Not a sleeve, but just black against my skin. What do you think?"

Georg looked at him. "You know how I feel about tattoos," he said, sighing happily. He loved tattoos. He didn't have any himself, but tattoos were fucking sexy. GUSTAV's were sexy. He sighed, trying not to drool. 

"So yes," he concluded finally. "I think that'd look great."

"You love tats, yet have none – that's so odd. But I know, your natural beauty will out."

Gustav smiled, knowing that Georg found them sexy. He wasn't holding out any hope of them being together, but he could still do a few things that made Georg foam at the mouth.

Other than give him rabies, that is. He'd done THAT two Christmases ago, though not on purpose. He hadn't known that squirrel was so... manic.

Anywhoo.

"Exactly," Georg said with a grin. "I'll leave the tats to you. You look hot with them. I'm not saying I'll NEVER get one, though."

They talked and drank until around five, then left their room, strolling by the bank of suites and eyeballing them; they'd compare notes later. 

Then it was down to the pool to see who was there.


	22. Gustav Thinks Pink!

As it happened, several rather well-known folk were guests, and Gustav had thoughtfully snapped a picture of the guest list of floors 6 and 7, the hoity-toity levels, comparing them with the names and faces of the nouveau riche. Four couples were in attendance, one of the single men, and two of the single women.

And Paolo.

And their American ladies who swooped down on them immediately.

Georg glanced over at Gustav and raised a brow, then turned back and observed. He looked around, trying to seem casual... then spotted the day manager and had to grin when he caught him staring at him. Oh yeah, he still had it, baby.

He noticed Gustav's disapproving frown and turned back to the matter at hand. 

Paolo and the ladies – it had a nice ring to it. He snorted, then sighed. He'd always known there was something fishy about Paolo, but he was surprised that Eugenie and Clara were apparently also involved.

Gustav tried hard to not scowl when PeenBoy – which was his name for the day manager and his goddamn toreador pants – eyed Georg like he was a delicious tart that he'd like to suck the filling out of. Fuck that noise, he thought. Paolo might be a shit, but he didn't wear toreador pants, Jesus.

Paolo was, in fact, wearing a nicely-tailored (but tight!) pair of black trousers and a pale-blue shirt that set off both his tan and his eyes. Well then...

He caught Paolo eyeing him, and braced for impact, but Eugenie got to him first. "Darling, I LOOOOOOVE Hello Kitty! And your hair! How sweet are you?"

"Well, vacation," said Gustav smoothly, grateful that Eugenie was dressed, even if her neckline dipped way lower than anyone over 60's should. "I thought it might be fun to change it up, as it were. Georg tells me I look like a cherub."

Georg grinned. "He does, doesn't he?" He reached over and ruffled Gustav's hair. "He looks absolutely adorable. I'm still not entirely sure about the t-shirt, but as long as it's tight – who am I to complain?"

He laughed softly, then smiled at Eugenie. "So, how's it going? Did anything interesting happen while we were up in our room?"

Gustav fake-beamed. "You're so cute, Geo – isn't he cute?" This was a passing comment, but he got several nods in return.

Eugenie smiled at both of them. "Have you heard about the robberies?" Her voice dropped. "Three separate suites and a literal _fortune_ in jewels. I hear," she continued, scooting her chair closer, "that the police here think it’s an inside job. Can you imagine one of these nice people, a criminal?"

She waved at the hotel staff, and then beamed too. "Paolo, you handsome, handsome man!"

Georg watched her, raising a brow. Either Eugenie had nothing to do with this or she was GOOD. Maybe she'd been an actress a hundred years ago, when film was new. Hmm...

He propped his chin up on his hand and leaned forward, getting ready to gossip. "Really! That's unbelievable. They're all so _nice_. Who would do something like that?"

He looked up at Paolo and smiled. "Hello Paolo," he almost purred, then snorted inwardly, and left the flirting to Gustav. Paolo was definitely more interested in Gustav.

Paolo was instantly suspicious – Listing hated him, which he rather liked, and for him to be downright cordial, well. 

Hmph.

"Hello, Georg," he said in his heavy accent, and Gustav snorted into his banana daiquiri. "And Gustav, look at you, you hot boy, you." He smiled – he really _did_ think Gustav was cute. "I very much like the pink."

The band struck up on the other side of the pool. "Come shake your, ah, money-maker with me?" He took Gustav's hand. "And I will buy you many, many daiquiris."

Eugenie beamed at them, then moved over for Clara. "Well, apparently, the police think it's hotel staff and have been checking everyone out. Why, they even asked us about Clara's bracelet."

Georg sipped his own strawberry daiquiri, watching Gustav and Paolo head to the dance floor. He didn't like this at all. 

So he turned back to Eugenie. "They did? Well... I guess they're just making sure to cover all the bases to find the thieves. And it is a rather nice bracelet."

He nodded, then sipped some more daiquiri, trying to focus on Eugenie – not Paolo and Gustav.

Gustav didn't look like it, but he could dance – and even liked to. He could move, shake his money maker, his caboose, his tight arse, or whatever else you wanted to call it.

So he danced with Paolo, pleased that the shorts had some unexpected 'give' to them, and let him move. Paolo was surprised, he could tell, and smirked inwardly.

Clara turned to watch. "Well, look at that!"

Eugenie grinned and then showed Georg Clara's bracelet. "It's an antique and worth a fortune. She feels so odd wearing it, but still, with things as they are..."

"It's beautiful, really."

Georg looked at the bracelet, wishing he could take a picture of it and do some research. If he could send it to Patty, maybe she could find out some things about it – and maybe even figure out if it _was_ Clara's. If it was a unique item, then... 

Suddenly, he had an idea. He reached into his pocket and smiled. "You know, today I realised that I haven't really taken any pictures at all yet! And I'd absolutely love a picture with the two of you. So..."

He thought for a moment, then grinned and jumped up, running over to the day manager. "Hello gorgeous. Would you maybe take a picture of Clara, Eugenie and me? That would be so darling of you. And afterwards, I'd love to take one with you, too... and maybe I could even convince you to dance?"

He batted his lashes at him, beaming – and tossing his hair, of course.

Had Gustav heard any of this he would have been a) proud of Georg's sneakiness and b) wildly jealous. But he didn't, just glanced over to see a photo of two overly-made-up old babes and his partner being taken by a smarmy gigolo type, aka the Day Manager or PeenBoy.

Glorious.

Clara and Eugenie were more than happy to take a photo with such a lovely boy, and Clara happily patted Georg's hair. "I'm so jealous of this hair," she sighed. "So pretty."

Paolo looked over at this little group and laughed. "Your friend seems to be having a lovely time over there – what say WE have a lovely time?"

He pulled Gustav close and slid a hand onto Gustav's hot, round little ass and began to move seductively to the beat.

Georg had just finished taking pictures – making sure he had a good shot of the bracelet. He'd send it to Patty later. 

He reached for his drink, then turned to look to where Gustav and Paolo were dancing, and almost dropped his drink. 

Paolo's hands were on Gustav's ass. They were _on_ Gustav’s ass.

He almost growled and headed over there to punch Paolo's stupidly perfect nose – but only just managed to restrain himself. They had a case to figure out here – he couldn't do that now if they were going to go to Paolo's party. Dammit! 

He couldn't believe that Gustav just allowed that guy to paw him like that. 

He took a breath, then turned back to the day manager, whose name was Michel.

"Would you like to dance?"

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Michel's wrist and pulled him to the dance floor. He gave him a sweet, flirty smile, then wrapped his arms around him and danced – their bodies already pressed together.

Gustav honestly had not thought much about what Paolo was doing; he was busy dancing, and actually enjoying moving, dancing with someone who was as good as he was.

So all of this emotion slid right past him, until he saw Georg dancing with PeenBoy, dancing _close_ , his arms around him. 

_Pressing against him._

Gustav saw red, then swallowed, and slid HIS hands onto Paolo's ass and pressed against his groin. He smiled intimately at Paolo, who smiled back, looking surprised. 

"Why, Gustav..."

"Why, Paolo," murmured Gustav.

He knew a split second before it happened that he was going to be kissed – and didn't resist.

Paolo's lips were on his and he closed his eyes and kissed him back.

Georg had just turned his back to them but when they turned around and he saw Gustav KISSING Paolo, _he_ was the one who saw red. His arms tightened around Michel and he swallowed hard, wanting to look away – but he couldn't. Gustav's eyes were closed and Paolo's hands were still on his ass, and it was obvious that they were both enjoying this. 

He bit his lip, then took a step back, looking at Michel. "I'm... not feeling well. I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'm sorry."

He looked at Gustav again, rubbing it in, then walked back to the table and took his camera. He managed a smile at Eugenie and Clara. "Thanks for a lovely evening, ladies, but it's time for me to head back. I'll see you tomorrow."

He went upstairs, feeling oddly... odd. 

In their room, he sat down on the bed, then reached for his laptop and sent Patty the picture, asking her to do some research and see if she could find anything out about it. 

Then he flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering why he'd just reacted the way he had. He knew Paolo was handsome and that Gustav obviously found him attractive. But he'd asked him not to do anything about it, and Gustav had done it anyway. 

So that had to be it. He felt betrayed. Right?

Even though that was part of what he was feeling, Georg knew that that wasn't everything. He was jealous. Not of Gustav – he couldn't care less about Paolo and his slimy ass. No, he was jealous of _Paolo_.

His eyes opened in surprise at that realisation and took a deep breath.


	23. Heists And Handjobs

The kiss was brief, at least by Gustav's standards, and when it ended, he opened his eyes, a little shocked at himself, and immediately looked around for Georg – but he was gone. A disappointed-looking PeenBoy was still there, though, so at least they hadn't gone off together.

He pecked Paolo's cheek and excused himself to the restroom, but instead, veered off to the quiet garden for a cigarette before realizing he had no pockets, and therefore no place to keep any, and therefore had none. Shit.

So he sat for a while, looking up at the sky, trying to understand how he felt, though he didn't have to do too much soul searching.

He still loved Georg. Yes, he loved/had loved Bill, and would always, but Georg was…

…well, he was the love of his life. He just was.

Eventually, he went back upstairs, and opened the door softly.

"Hey," he said, when he saw Georg laying there. 

He went into the bathroom and pulled off the clothes, wrapping himself in a robe, and then coming back out, sitting on the sofa, and finally having the cigarette he desperately needed.

"Hey," Georg said when Gustav came in, then stayed quiet. He wasn't sure what to say, and knew that anything he _would_ say, would sound petulant and angry, and he didn't want to fight with Gustav right now. He never wanted to fight with him but right now, he just felt exhausted and confused and he wasn't sure what had caused it. 

Well, the kiss had, obviously. But it was still confusing. Maybe he should just go to sleep. 

After a long moment of silence, he stood up and started pulling off his clothes to get ready for bed, hoping Gustav would either say something, or that the awkwardness he felt right now, would be gone tomorrow morning.

Gustav crushed out the half-smoked cigarette and rubbed his face. "You disappeared fast," he finally said. "Are you all right?"

He looked down so he couldn't see Georg taking off his clothes. "Do you want me to sleep over here tonight?"

Georg looked up. "I'm okay," he said softly. "Just tired, and…"

He hesitated. "Well, if you want to. Why would you?"

He bit his lip, then disappeared in the bathroom for peeing, teeth brushing and all that stuff, and came back out a moment later, sitting down on the bed.

Gustav waited till Georg came back out, and looked at him. "Well, I didn't know if you were going to have company when you came back. Or if you just hate me too much at the moment to want me anywhere near you."

Georg frowned. "I wouldn't have company if you were in the room. How weird would that be? And I don't hate you."

He looked down, not sure what to say about how he felt. Mainly because he had no idea how he felt. Except…

"I'm just confused. But I don't hate you. I could never hate you."

"I didn't mean I'd _stay_ if that was the case – that would be fucked up. I just…"

Gustav took a deep breath. "I didn't know he had his hand on my ass, okay? I really didn't. I actually happen to love to dance, and I was into it and didn't notice anything. And when I realized he _did_ , I was gonna step away and then I saw you with that fucking asshole Michel and…”

He swallowed. "You were pressed up against him like any moment he was gonna fuck you against the cabana and so… why is it not okay for me to be attracted to anyone, but you go and do THAT?"

Gustav's voice was hurt. "Is there a double standard now? Were you gonna let me know about that, or just do whatever the fuck you want while judging ME?"

Georg looked up and stared at him. "I didn't say it wasn't okay for you to dance with someone or whatever. I just…"

He frowned and looked down, then up again. "Besides, I didn't ask Michel to dance until I saw Paolo's hands on your ass!" He glared, then realised what he'd said, and looked down again. 

"I guess I was... justtryingtomakeyoujealousorsomething."

Gustav glared back. "Then you should have come over and beat the shit out of Pool Boy and gotten it over with! But no, YOU go off and do exactly what you asked me not to do purposely, because this was supposed to be a vacation about us, remember? Or was that just a really bad, stupid idea?"

He swallowed, knowing his voice sounded odd and choked. God, why was he here? What was he _thinking_? Patty was an old romantic in a world where romance was just not viable.

He could barely make out what Georg was saying, and was too upset to really get it. "Why? Why do you care what I think?"

Georg looked up. "I didn't do anything! You were the one who danced with Paolo, let him touch your ass and then KISSED him. I could take the dancing. The ass grabbing did make me want to punch the shit out of him – but since we're planning on going to his precious little party, I didn't want to do anything to antagonise him."

He took a breath and licked his lips. "I don't know. Okay? I don't know why I care. I got insanely jealous when I saw you and Paolo and… I just wanted to make you jealous too. I..."

He sighed and flopped down again, swallowing hard, then continued softly, "I just hated seeing that guy's hands all over you when…"

_When it should be my hands on you._

"I didn't _let_ him! It happened before I knew it, and… fuck it, you're not listening to me anyway. When it comes to this kind of stuff, you don't want to hear anything I have to say, do you? Didn't want to hear it a year and a half ago, don't wanna hear it now."

Gustav stood up and walked over to the window; he was NOT going to break down. No. Fuck THAT.

He didn't want to hear Georg, but somehow, oddly, he did.

"You wanted to make _me_ jealous? Why shouldn't he have his hands on me? It's nice that SOMEONE wants me."

Georg pushed himself up and looked at Gustav's back for a long moment. A moment later, he was standing behind Gustav. 

Gustav had his arms wrapped around himself and was working really hard to stay calm and focused. 

Angry and focused – both of those things.

He felt Georg stand up and move over behind him and he tensed, resisting the attempts to turn him around, but Georg was strong and won out.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to say here, Gustav," Georg sighed, then turned Gustav around, cupped his cheek and kissed him, pressing him just a little against the wall to make sure Gustav wouldn't push him away immediately.

 

The kiss was… Gustav didn't have any words. As soon as Georg's mouth was on his, he slumped and let himself be kissed, instinctively reaching for Georg and wrapping his arms around him.

Georg was relieved when Gustav didn't resist him, and he pressed his lips more insistently against Gustav's, deepening the kiss slowly. He stroked Gustav's back, trying to ignore the fluttering in his belly and the voice in his head that was telling him that this felt _right_. 

He just focused on kissing Gustav, making soft sounds in the back of his throat when their tongues brushed. He finally rested his hands just above Gustav's ass, kissing him slowly.

Gustav gave in – he couldn't fight it, didn't want to. He'd never wanted to fight these feelings, and moved to shrug off the robe, so they were pressing skin against skin as they touched.

It didn't feel like they were deepening the kiss as much as falling into it, like Alice and her rabbit hole. He was falling and whether he ever hit the floor or not, he didn't care.

He slid a hand up under Georg's hair to cup the back of his neck and closed his eyes, their tongues tangling, slow and perfect.

The fluttering in Georg's stomach got more intense and he finally knew now that he definitely did have feelings for Gustav; more than friendship. He cupped his cheek and stroked his hair, then wrapped both arms around him again, not letting him go again.

Suddenly, weirdly, Gustav remembered his hair was pink. Or mostly pink. And for some reason, that just cracked him up and he started giggling against Georg's lips, then pulled back a little, kissing Georg's slightly salty neck before pressing his face into the hollow and wrapping his other arm around Georg's back, hugging him tight.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, thudding against Georg's own.

Georg raised a brow and grinned without even knowing what was going on. He buried his own face in Gustav's neck and breathed him in, hugging him as well. He kissed his neck lightly, then nuzzled it, stroking Gustav's lower back.

Gustav made a little sound when Georg kissed his neck, then unaccountably, started giggling again. He wasn't even drunk, just… silly.

He held onto Georg and laughed, keeping his face pressed into Georg's neck.

Georg grinned and couldn't ignore it anymore. "What is it?" he asked curiously, nipping Gustav's neck gently. He glanced out of the window and frowned – someone was standing down by the pool and staring straight at Gustav's bare ass. 

"Wha... There's someone staring at your ass!" Georg slid his hands down on it possessively, then turned them around so his own boxer-clad ass was facing the guy. "Better."

"All the French are fucking perverts," said Gustav dismissively, then had to grin. "Pink. Just every now and then I remember I'm pink, and it… I don't know. I'm an idiot."

He looked over Georg's shoulder. "Now he's staring at YOUR ass.” 

"Hey, asshole, get a fucking life!"

He reached to tug the curtains shut, then sighed. "Don't want anyone else checking you out."

"I don't want anyone else checking me out either," Georg murmured with a smile. "Just you."

He drew back and looked into his eyes, then up at his hair. "I love it," he said softly, running his fingers through it. "If anyone can pull off pink, it's you."

"I check you out constantly," Gustav admitted. "But you know that already. And you love it?"

He shook his head, then arched his head into Georg's stroking fingers. "You're mental, but no more than me, I guess."

He took a breath; he was wearing his contacts tonight so there was no layer of glass between their eyes. "Geo," he said softly, "So… what does this mean? Do you want me, or do you just not want anyone else to have me?"

Georg smiled, then looked down at him, biting his lip. "I don't know," he said softly. "I'm… confused, to be honest but… both. I want you, and I don't want anyone else to touch you like that. I just…"

He paused, biting his lip. "It's more than friendship," he murmured. "I know that much. But I don't know what it is yet but…" 

He sighed softly and met his eyes again. "My feelings for you are changing; getting stronger. And, well."

He shrugged, looking at him. "Do you think we could take things slowly? I really don't want to hurt you again, and I don't think I'm going to, but… you know what I mean?"

Gustav listened and watched Georg's face.

He nibbled the inside of his lip, thinking. "I think that would be good," he said, then sighed. "That was brilliant. I… well, I'm not confused."

He nudged Georg over to the bed and sat down on it, tugging Georg down beside him and rubbing the back of his head.

Pink. Jesus God.

"Okay, so… I love you." 

He said this without preamble, because there wasn't one, for him. "I've been in love with you for a long time, and you know that, on some level. I mean, obviously, I went through some crap around that and it’s in the past. I love Bill too, and I always will, but it’s not like loving you. Loving you seems to be a part of who I am. I can't stop and I can't not acknowledge it. What I can do, what I have done, is push it down and be glad that we have US back. No one else would understand what US means, not even Patty, although obviously, she gets it more than anyone else."

Gustav took a breath. "I know you don't want to hurt me, and fuck knows, I never want to be hurt again. And if the way to avoid that is to just let things develop, then, well, I'm okay with that – more than okay."

He gave Georg a little smile. "I know what it’s like to fall in love with you, and if you do, with me too, maybe someday you can tell me what it's like."

Georg listened to all of this, and finally looked up, giving him a little smile. "I already am. Falling for you, I mean. I don't know why it took me so long, and maybe it's always been there. But I know my feelings for you are… getting stronger, and… it's a nice feeling, and completely frustrating at the same time."

He smiled. "I get jealous whenever you look at someone else, especially handsome guys like Paolo. But…" 

He licked his lips. "I feel like a teenager again. Butterflies, heart racing, and all that good stuff whenever we're close, and… it’s nice."

He leaned over and kissed Gustav's cheek. "Letting it develop sounds like a good plan. We should take things slowly and let me figure out my feelings before we jump into anything."

He paused for a moment. "Can I kiss you? I reeeally want to kiss you right now."

Gustav felt his cheeks get hot, which no doubt matched the shade of his hair. "I always feel like a teenager around you… well, I always feel goofy or plotty, which was ALSO me as a teenager, so yeah. But it’s a nice feeling, huh? Just wanting someone."

He was sure his skin would burn Georg when he kissed him, but looked at Georg, and then smiled. "You can definitely kiss me now."

Georg smiled at him, sliding his hand into Gustav's. 

"It might lead to more," he pointed out, kissing the corner of his mouth. He touched his chin and tilted it up, looking into his eyes. "Do you think we can handle more?"

Gustav had to be honest. "I don't know," he said softly. "I guess we won't know until or unless it does lead to more, will we?"

He held Georg's hand tight and kissed Georg back, closing his eyes and tilting his head so that the kiss could deepen – or not.

Georg _did_ deepen the kiss slowly, cupping the back of Gustav's neck and pulling him down onto the bed. He broke the kiss for a moment and looked into his eyes. 

"Let's try to just make out for now," he murmured. "Or… we'll see where it leads. Let's just be teenagers tonight."

He gave him a smile, then kissed him again, sliding a leg over Gustav's to pull him closer.

"I love making out," Gustav admitted. "Did I tell you about the one boy I made out with in high school? We got busy on his bed, rolled over, fell off onto his science fair project – a volcano – which IGNITED and singed all the hair off my ass crack. Since then, no hair grows there and I am smooth as silk."

Georg laughed. "That sounds rather traumatising."

“It was, believe me, but nah, I was fine. Hermann was traumatised though, cause we shattered Vesuvius and nearly burned my tender ass off my body, which, as you know, would be a shame.”

Gustav paused, sat up, and pulled off the tight shorts. "Fuck, I'm naked. Well – pretend I'm not. I'll keep my dick, like, over here."

He positioned it just so, then rolled back over again and kissed Georg, wiggling under his leg.

Georg grinned, then wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, slowly sliding his hands up and down his back. He nibbled Gustav's bottom lip, then slid his hand a little lower to cup Gustav's ass – but nothing else. He'd try to stay away from… other things.

He slid his arms around Georg and let Georg nibble his bottom lip, letting his own hands roam over Georg's body – it was both known and not, and he loved every inch of it.

"It would've been a shame," Georg agreed against his lips, squeezing said ass fondly. He closed his eyes and fell into the kiss, making soft, content sounds in the back of his throat.

"I know, right? My ass is awesome. Trial by fire, as it were."

He closed his eyes too, and slid his hand up into Georg's hair, twirling a curl around his finger and tugging.

The only problem he could see – or rather, feel – approaching, was that if he moved, even a little, he would risk stabbing Georg in the groin with his, erm, firearm.

Georg grinned and kissed his lips, then moved a little closer to him and raised a brow as he looked down. He glanced back up at Gustav and raised another brow. He licked his lip, then reached down and brushed his fingers over his erection. He himself was hard, too, and pressed his cock against Gustav's thigh. 

At Gustav's look, he smiled. "Hey, teenagers touch and… explore."

"Teenagers also fuck like, well, teenagers," pointed out Gustav, rather unnecessarily, then shut up and kept kissing, only letting out a small and rather ineffectual moan as Georg pressed against his thigh.

He reached downwards, bumping fingers with Georg as he clumsily stroked him. With all the fantastic technique he was showing, he DID feel like a teenager again.

Georg gasped when he was stroked, his own fingers brushing Gustav's, whenever he moved his hand up on Gustav's cock. He smiled against his lips, then kissed him again, sucking on Gustav's tongue for a moment before breaking the very wet and very sensual kiss. Their noses brushed as he thrust forward into Gustav's hand, staring into his eyes and letting out a tiny little moan.

The sheer clumsiness of their touches and how their noses bumped was, oddly, one of the hottest things Gustav had ever experienced.

He traced Georg's lips with the tip of his tongue as he wrapped his fingers around Georg's cock, squeezing gently. Georg's hand on him was making him see stars behind his closed lids.

Georg rubbed his knuckles against Gustav's cock, then squeezed it again as he continued moving his hand up and down, a little faster now. He brushed his thumb over the tip and his lips over Gustav's again, letting out a shaky breath; he was close already.

Jerking, and being jerked off was definitely bringing back memories, even though Gustav was totally here, totally aware of Georg and totally tuned into him.

His own breathing was shaky and erratic too now, he knew, and he could feel his balls starting to tighten up as his body readied itself to explode.

Georg swallowed hard, then his breath hitched and he let out a soft, whimpery moan as he jerked forward and came all over Gustav's hand, his stomach and his thighs. He was still shaking and tightened his grip around Gustav's cock.

It wasn't QUITE a simmy, as Hermann used to say, but it was close enough for government work, thought Gustav… who, working in government, ought to know.

He groaned as he spurted on parts of Georg and part of himself, and on the ghosts of all the former fuck buddies who had spent time in that suite.

Emptied – for now – he pushed his pink head under Georg's chin. "Check and Mate, mate. You've got the white queen all over you."

Georg raised a brow and smiled, burying his face in Gustav's pink hair and tightening his arms around him. "That was amazing," he whispered. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed a hand-job this much."

He kissed Gustav's forehead, then looked down into his eyes.

"You're a lucky sort, then – brilliant hand-jobs are just one of the services I offer." 

Gustav smirked at him, then buried his face for a moment, breathing hard. "I have so many other plans for our cocks and hands… I mean, I have ideas. Lots of ideas."

He did, actually, and kept them in a small Lion King notebook; you couldn't let these things just go by and disappear into the stratosphere. Seize the day, your cock, whatever.

Georg raised a brow and smiled, kissing his shoulder lightly. "You do? Well, I'm sure we'll manage to try them all out at some point."

He smiled and stroked Gustav's back, then nuzzled him. "Do you wanna sleep?"

_I want to do things to you that would make you scream, and then come, then screamandcome simultaneously. And then I want to drown 'Michel', solve the crime and buy Clara a real bra. But…_

"I'm not tired right now," Gustav said honestly. "But if you want to sleep, go for it. I can watch dirty videos on my laptop and then maybe order room service."

Georg shook his head. "I'm not really tired either," he said softly, snuggling into Gustav and closing his eyes. "Just wanna be close to you."

Five seconds later, he was asleep.

"Oh, well then you can…"

But Georg was out, and Gustav laughed to himself, then gently moved Georg onto his pillow and half-covered him with the sheets.

He spent a long moment looking down at his…. friend's sleeping form, and had to smile, just as his laptop announced a new message.

Gustav got up, grabbed a bottle of water and sat down, naked, on the couch, to look at his emails and such. The new one was from Patty.

_'Ello, boys… hope you're doing everything I would do and more. Things are boring without you two around here so, please God, get together and have fun, then come home tanned, hot and in love, okay? Okay._

_Geo, that bracelet – I don't know where you found it, but it was part of the Diarmid fortune. Remember that heist three years ago? That's the bracelet, and it has a matching necklace and earrings, and is worth MILLIONS._

_Just what the hell are you two getting into over there?_

_Love, and other indoor sports ...  
Pat_

Gustav blinked. Diarmid? Fuck him sideways. This WAS big.

A moment later, a dull thump could be heard, as Georg, his pillow and the sheets rolled off the bed. 

"Fuck!"


	24. Feels Like The First Time (Like It Never Did Before)

A dull thump announced that Georg, his pillow and the sheets had rolled off the bed. 

"Fuck!"

Gustav was digesting the whole "come back in love" and "Diarmid fortune" thing when Georg hit the floor. He sighed, got up and went over to Georg, picking him up and putting him back on the bed, in the middle, covering him with the blanket and kissing his nose. "Clumsy oaf," he murmured, then kissed him again… on the lips this time, lingeringly.

He couldn't help it.

Georg blinked, then closed his eyes and returned the kiss, cupping the back of Gustav's neck… he couldn't help it either. If this was what happened when he fell out of bed, maybe he had to fall more often. 

He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss slowly, then pulled Gustav down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him and pushing the sheets away.

Gustav didn't hesitate – he kissed Georg back, letting it deepen and lay down with him, sliding his leg over Georg's. 

They were still both nearly naked – or rather, Gustav was entirely naked – and he pressed himself close to Georg, letting his hands roam over Georg's broad back.

Georg rolled them over after a moment, pinning Gustav to the bed as he kissed him hard. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to slide his tongue into Gustav's mouth, his whole body tingling as he kissed Gustav. 

He almost couldn't deny it anymore – his feelings for Gustav were definitely so much stronger than they had been only two week ago, and he was falling for him, and hard. In fact, he couldn't even imagine ever being with anyone else. He hadn't been attracted to other men for a long time – with the exception of Tom – and maybe this had been coming for a long time. 

He reached down and pulled his own boxers down, wriggling out of them before pressing their erections together and moaning into Gustav's mouth.

Gustav didn't care if this was the right thing or the wrong thing anymore – he had survived being hurt once and if it was meant to be, he guessed he'd survive it again.

But maybe this time it was real on _both_ sides.

He cupped Georg's ass when he lost the boxers and wrapped his leg around his ass, rubbing against him, kissing him hard, but expertly, letting his mind go and just _experiencing_ Georg, all of him.

Georg kissed him almost desperately, rubbing against him slowly. He reached down and wrapped a hand around both their cocks, stroking them firmly. He kissed Gustav's neck and shoulder, licking his collarbone, then drew back then and reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out lube and a condom. He looked down into his eyes, then kissed his lips and sat up. He kept looking into his eyes to see if Gustav wanted this too, then lifted the condom and gave him a questioning look.

Gustav had always loved it when his partner (sex partner, that is – Geo hadn't been overly prone to ever grabbing his dick in a random fashion) would stroke them both together. It was incredibly intimate, somehow.

He looked up at Georg, his pupils dilating even further when he saw the condom, and then locking gazes with him. "I want this, yes," he said softly. "If you're sure."

Georg nodded. "I'm sure," he murmured. "But with or without?"

He waved the condom again, and as he waited for an answer, he leaned forward and kissed a trail up the inside of Gustav's thigh.

Gustav moaned and shivered a little. "Without," he whispered. "I want all of you – nothing between us."

There was no way in hell he was going to let anything, even a thin layer of latex come between them, not now. Not now when something amazing was growing between them.

Belatedly, he thought how Patty would narrate this in her head. He sighed to himself – he really needed to get out more – more than this, even.

Georg smiled, pleased. He tossed the condom off the bed, then reached for the lube and slicked his cock and his fingers, positioning them at Gustav's entrance. He rubbed his hole for a few moments, circling it. Then he pushed two fingers inside, moaning at Gustav's tightness.

Watching Georg prepare himself, for him, was almost surreal – the first and only time they'd ever had sex, they'd both been drunk, both been a little fuzzy in the morning. But this time, they were both crystal clear about why they were here, and what they wanted.

And what they wanted was each other.

Gustav groaned when Georg pressed against his most sensitive area, then breached him. He relaxed around Georg's fingers, then clenched, just for a little preview.

All this time, he never took his eyes off Georg.

Georg moaned when Gustav clenched and gave him a small smile. Gustav was more than ready for this, so he pulled his fingers out again and slicked his cock again, then positioned himself above Gustav, looking down into his eyes as he rubbed the tip of his cock against Gustav's opening.

Gustav licked his lips, reaching down between their legs and wrapping his fingers around Georg's slippery cock, guiding him into him, wrapping a leg around Georg's ass to pull him deep inside him, as far as he could go. He slid his hand around the back of Georg's neck and looked up at him, then smiled, pulling him down. "I want you," he whispered. "Slam me hard."

"You have me," Georg murmured. "And I will."

He returned the smile and showered soft kisses all over Gustav's face before he started moving, slowly at first, getting used to Gustav's tightness, then started thrusting into him harder, staring down into his eyes as he moaned.

Gustav, looking up at Georg, could only hope those words were true, and that he DID have his boy.

But in the grand scheme of things, he thought, he should just grab the moment and go with it and not worry if there would ever be more like them again.

He closed his eyes at the kisses, and then groaned as Georg started moving, and opened his eyes again, meeting green ones, as huge and aroused as his own.

Georg cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes as he moved slowly, then faster, his eyes fluttering a little as he thrust into him again and again, never taking his eyes off his face. 

He kissed him again, running his fingers through Gustav's hair, then down his arms and sides of his body. "Mmmhhhh…"

Gustav was holding onto Georg, wrapping strands of his hair around his fingers, tugging as though they were reins.

He pushed back against Georg, wanting him as deep as possible, wanting to be one with Georg as long as he possibly could be. He stroked, patted, moaned and never stopped looking into those incredibly deep, incredibly gorgeous hazel eyes.

Georg laced their fingers, leaning down to kiss Gustav every once in a while – and he absolutely loved it when Gustav grabbed his hair and tugged on it. He felt his orgasm building for what felt like minutes, getting closer to his orgasm with every thrust. 

Looking down at Gustav, he could see that the other man was just as close, and he reached down to wrap his hand around Gustav's cock, their eyes locked. "Come for me, baby," he whispered. "I want to see you."

Gustav was experiencing that same, slow roll, and it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He didn't know how much was physical, how much emotional, but it was intense, and if he died right now, it would be worth it.

His eyes fluttered closed as he was touched, his cock twitching in Georg's palm.

"Baby," he whispered back, relishing the word, just as his body tightened and jerked, pushing against Georg's hand, coating them both.

The 'baby' and the feel of Gustav's come splashing against him pushed him over the edge too, and he moaned loudly, pushing in once more before Gustav's intense clenching drained him. He shivered, then collapsed on top of him, panting heavily. 

"God... Gusti," he whispered, pressing his face into Gustav's neck.

The only words Gustav could think of were, maybe, the wrong ones, but Gustav couldn't help saying what he felt.

He stroked Georg's damp, heavy hair, breathing it in, breathing HIM in, and whispered. "I love you, Georg. Whether I'm supposed to or not, you're the only one I'll ever want forever."

Georg looked down at him; it was different, hearing it now that he was beginning to have feelings for Gustav than it had been before. He cupped Gustav's cheeks and pressed a soft but emotional kiss to his lips and rubbed his nose against Gustav's, hoping he knew what it meant. 

That Georg was – finally – falling for him too.


	25. Say You Will, Say You Won't

When Georg woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was the peaceful expression on Gustav's face next to him on the pillow. He looked so angelic and vulnerable… Georg looked at the other man's long lashes as they fluttered slightly, wondering what his dream was about, then looked at the slightly red tip of Gustav's nose, and finally those beautiful, kissable lips. He resisted the urge to kiss them right then and there, and just watched Gustav sleep, overcome with a sudden surge of love for his best friend and…

Well. He wasn't sure what they were at this point. No longer just partners but not boyfriends yet, they teetered between friendship and love. Because even though Georg's feelings were crystal clear to him at this moment, he wasn't going to make the same mistakes he'd made in his past again. Gustav's heart was fragile and he wasn't going to break it again. 

He finally got up and stumbled to the bathroom to pee and take a quick shower. When his hair was towel-dried and tied back into a ponytail, he reached for the phone and ordered breakfast. While waiting, he flopped back down on the bed and watched the other man, smiling when Gustav began to stir.

Gustav heard the shower start to run, and rolled over a little, then smelled the mango body wash Georg had taken to using – this hotel had good stuff, he had to admit.

He kept his eyes closed and must have drifted for a while, because he felt the mattress sink beside him and finally opened his eyes to see a slightly-damp, wavy-haired beauty beside him.

"Hello," he said softly, looking up. "God, you are BEAUTIFUL. How do you do this?"

Georg raised a brow and actually blushed a little, then smiled. "I don't know. Natural beauty, I guess?"

He grinned and then leaned forward to press a kiss against Gustav's lips. "And you look angelic when you sleep; actually, a cross between breathtakingly beautiful and innocent."

He smiled. "Hi. Also, I ordered breakfast."

"That must be it." Gustav smiled, the running joke between them – and half their precinct – still intact. "Angelic? Innocent? Me? It _must_ be under the guise of sleep."

He closed his eyes again when Georg kissed his lips, then smiled. "Breakfast, _and_ a wet-haired pretty boy on my bed? It must be paradise."

Georg grinned. "You're a dork. But yeah, we are in paradise. But today, we need to get some work done, if we want to solve this case and still have some relaxing days left."

He nodded, then leaned against him, playing with Gustav's curls. "And you _are_ an angel. Not an innocent one but… You're my angel."

He blushed a little, realising how corny that sounded. 

"Are we supposed to be doing work on vacation?" Gustav yawned and sat up, then leaned against Georg and smiled up at him. "I am, huh? I think I might have fallen from up high, but this was a hell of a place to land."

Georg's blush was the cutest thing ever though, and Gustav let himself snuggle for a moment.

Georg smiled. "I know, right? And nope, we're not supposed to be working, I think, but well, it's not like we can just give up on this case. Right?"

He smiled, then kissed Gustav's forehead before getting up to get their food when there was a knock on the door. 

"Right. I think – I mean, yes, sure."

Gustav smiled at the kiss, and barely kept from leaping on Georg as he got up, then flopped back on the pillows, causing a pink curl to bounce into his line of vision.

He groaned.

Georg caught the groan and had to laugh. "You're too cute," he said, closing the door and coming over to him with the tray. He put it on Gustav's lap, then flopped down next to him again, reaching for his coffee right away.

"I forgot I was pink. Jesus, if my mother could see me right now. Or worse, my brother; he'd be photo-shopping me in a fucking TUTU, the snarky bastard."

He looked down at the tray and realized he was fucking starving, and his omelette was gonna just be a memory in moments.

He leaned his head against Georg's and munched, thinking.

Georg grinned. "Well, I'm sure the dye will be out before they see you."

He nodded. 

"No, this stuff is evil. Upon returning from Wonderland, I will be expected for dinner, and THEN..."

Gustav sighed. "Oh well, they have lots of weird ideas about me anyway, so whatever.”

They ate in relative silence, and when they were done, Georg cleaned up and rolled the cart back outside. Then he stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. "So, what's the plan, homie? Are we investigating, stalking, interrogating today...? Or what? You're the evil mastermind or something, so tell me. I'll follow your orders."

He grinned and rubbed his belly while Gustav pondered.

“So, we need to do research, which what was what I _was_ doing last night, before you fell off the bed and turned my studiousness into sex."

He nodded. "Brilliant plan, by the way. I would have enjoyed high school a fuck of a lot more had studying been all about sex. And I’m an evil mastermind? I like that."

Georg laughed. "You are! And I could totally be a sex instructor. Maybe I should look into that after I retire."

He grinned. "Okay, so research. Research what? Where? When? Also, I should take a shower. No wait, I already did." 

He facepalmed. "It's your pink hair that confuses me."

He grinned, then sat back down. 

Gustav glared at Georg briefly – the idea of Georg spreading around his sexual amazingness did not sit well with him.

At the shower comment, he raised a brow. "Maybe Michel warped your brain, cause you still appear slightly damp to me, but I want to find out where the rest of these jewels supposedly are."

"Aah right," Georg said, nodding. "And Michel did not warp my brain. Michel had no effect on me whatsoever, so... are you gonna take a shower or not?"

He facepalmed. "I don't know where that sudden interest in showers is coming from. Maybe it's a hint from my psychic hair that I'm supposed to shower WITH you."

He wiggled his brows and smiled. 

Gustav eyed him – he was not convinced. And in the light of day, he wondered what had really happened with them last night.

"Are you implying that I stink?" Gustav sniffed his pits – okay, he did, but still. "And your psychic hair says we're supposed to shower together? That hair of yours is getting pretty specific these days. Nevertheless, I do need to, and if you want in, I won't say no."

Georg sighed, giving him a look. "I'm not implying that you stink. My hair is definitely getting specific, and... well. I won't get my hair wet again, but I'd love to shower with you."

He smiled, getting up. "Come on, then, sexy."

Gustav couldn't argue, and didn't really want to, either, so he got up, stripped and wandered into the shower. He wondered if this color would fade – somehow he doubted it.

He turned on the water. "How are you not going to get the psychic hair wet? Do you need a shower cap, poopsikins?"

Georg stuck his tongue out at him, then reached into the basket in the bathroom, taking the little box and pulling out the shower cap... which was as pink as Gustav's hair. 

"I do, actually." He grinned and pulled it on, making sure all his hair was tucked under it. "Lovely! Now, let's shower!"

"Oh my God." Gustav rolled his eyes, but had to grin. "Aren't we cute? We should take a picture for the boys and girls at home."

He began to wash, starting with the sticky stuff in his bellybutton.

Georg grinned. "I know! For Patty, especially."

He sighed happily, then got into the shower with him, rewashing his body. 

"Patty will have more of a vacation album than we will," grumbled Gustav, but had to grin because fuck, Georg looked cute as hell in that cap, if a little dorky.

He, himself, looked a LOT dorky, so he wasn't gonna cast stones, and contented his pervy self with washing Georg's back and cute little ass.

Georg let Gustav wash his back, then did the same to him, before finally getting out of the shower and taking that ridiculous cap off. Then he got dressed, brushed his teeth and got ready, so that they could finally get some work done.

Gustav was briefly glad that he had such a collection of ball caps, cause he was going to need them. Seriously.

He dried, deodorized and dressed, and booted the laptop up, then patted the seat beside him on the couch. "Okay, so Patty says the picture we – you – sent her is part of that heist a few years ago, and that it’s been pretty much not seen or spoken of since. But Eugenie – and what a name, dude – has the bracelet. So is it a fake or the real one?"

Gustav pondered, and then accessed the official report of the heist, sharing the screen with Georg.

Georg leaned against Gustav, watching him. "I don't know if it's the real one. But there has to be a way to find out, right? I just don't know how we're gonna get close enough to it again without her getting suspicious."

He nuzzled Gustav, sniffing. He smelled good. 

Dammit. Georg used to have amazing concentration, and now he could only seem to focus on Gustav. 

But now was not the time, no – they had a case to solve.

"Me either. And if it IS, does she know what she has, or is she blissfully unaware? I think those old birds are smarter than they appear. And how do they know Paolo, if, indeed, he's part of it all? Ask your psychic hair _that_."

Then… "Are you sniffing me?"

Then… "You _are_ sniffing, you goon. Concentrate!"

He eyed Georg, who put up his hands. "Sorry! I'll stop sniffing when you stop smelling so good." 

When they were done reading, Gustav Googled the case, found a wildly exaggerated account – on Wikipedia, true, but…

"Hey! Okay, so they say there were five thieve involved in the Diarmid case… two women, three men, a mix of ages. I need the _Bundesnachrichtendienst_ file. Who do we know there? Don't you know someone there? They won't talk to me anymore after that big Christmas party… you know why." 

Georg huffed, then leaned back. "Well. I don't think they're innocent, to be honest. They're good at acting innocent, though – maybe they're old Hollywood actresses or something. I wouldn't put it past them. But anyway, the _Bundesnachrichtendienst_...”

He rubbed his chin. "I know Richter," he said after a moment, nodding. "Not sure if I have his number in my new phone, though…" He scrolled through the names in his phone and smiled. "Bingo."

He leaned back and called. "Let's hope he'll talk to me and doesn't hate me because of your little stunt at the Christmas party." He raised a brow at Gustav, then sat up. "Yes, Heiko? Hey, it's Georg… yeah, Georg Listing. Yeah, that one. Yes, still partnered with Schafer. No, he hasn’t been institutionalized yet. Yes, it’s only a matter of time, I agree. Listen…"

Gustav listened calmly to Georg’s end of the conversation; he remembered Richter, that bastard. He wondered if he still had total recall of the 'naked fruit punch' incident. One look at Georg's face a couple of minutes into the conversation said very plainly that Richter did, indeed.

Damn. Well, professional courtesy counted for something, right?

He patiently watched Georg pace, glare, punch, and then smoke furiously. He was so much fun to watch when he was on a roll. The phone call was longer than Georg had expected, but after a long discussion that made Georg gesture wildly, punch the couch cushions, and look practically psychotic, he finally managed to get the guy to do what was asked of him, and flopped back down next to Gustav, lighting a cigarette. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered, looking at Gustav. "We should have the file in a few minutes but it wasn't easy to convince the bastard. Can you believe that he actually wanted me to go over there and suck him off in return for the file? I mean, do I LOOK like the type of guy who just goes down on people for information? I mean, SERIOUSLY."

He was silent then, but continued ranting a moment later. "Do I look like a slut? I don't fuck just ANYONE! I have STANDARDS."

"Uhm… thank you?" Gustav offered, then made the situation worse by laughing. He couldn't help it.

"Well, you look like someone who might use sex as a weapon," he said thoughtfully. "And succeed. But if you're gonna abandon your gun for blowjobs, then you might want to invest in some more hair ties because yeah. And no, baby, you don't look like a slut. You look like a very "I'm out of your class, fuckwit," call boy."

Georg gave him a look. "You're not helping."

He sighed, leaning back. "I don't look like a slut OR call boy. I mean..." He sighed. "Oh, whatever – I got what we need. Is the email there yet?"

He leaned against Gustav. "And you're welcome. You're a thousand times prettier than he ever could be."

"I'm sorry. And no, you look amazing, and you know it, and much better than any call boy. Also, I am prettier than Richter, but so was Mussolini."

Georg nuzzled Gustav, suddenly feeling needy. "Kiss?" he asked, batting his lashes.

Gustav sighed and leaned back against Georg before pulling out the tie in his hair, and absently tangling his fingers in the curls. 

He blinked at the 'kiss' request. "I tend to favor Winger or the Stones, but KISS is okay too."

Georg looked up at him and sighed. Then he cupped Gustav's cheeks and pulled him down for a slow, gentle kiss. He closed his eyes and slid his tongue into Gustav's mouth, pushing the cap off his head and sliding his hands into his blond/pink hair.

Gustav was about to make another smart-assed comment, but Georg was kissing him and manhandling him, and he couldn't say no to either, so he moved his laptop onto the table and settled on top of Georg, kissing him back.

He realised that he could say fuck the case and just lie like this forever with Georg – and Gustav had never felt like that before, with anyone. Nothing had ever come before the thrill of tracking something or someone down, and he'd never thought anything ever would.

When the kiss broke, he looked down into Georg's eyes; he could say the words over and over, but sometimes they seemed redundant – and he wanted to hear them from Georg.

…whenever he was ready.

Georg touched Gustav's face gently, kissing his nose. Then he wrapped his arms around him for a long moment. "You know," he murmured. "We could just say 'screw the fucking case' and stay in."

He bit his lip, nuzzling him. "But fuck, I'm kind of looking forward to being able to say 'TOLD YOU SO' when we find out that Paolo is involved in the whole robbery thing, so..."

He gave him a smile and kissed his lips again, looking back up into his eyes. 

Gustav rolled his eyes. "So spite is your motivation? Pure spite? Seriously?"

He sighed and looked back down at Georg, kissing him lightly. He wondered exactly what Georg was thinking. At one time, he'd always known, but since all this had happened, and they'd both changed, he wasn't always so sure.

Just then, the laptop announced that they had mail, and Georg sat up reluctantly. "Got it. Let's have a look at it." 

He unceremoniously dumped Gustav off him when he sat up. Gustav sat on the floor, and looked at the wall.

No more. No more until Georg could tell him he loved him, and if he never could, well, then, he never could.

Georg ran his fingers through Gustav's hair as he looked at the file, then sighed. "This isn't helpful at all. Great."

He rubbed the back of Gustav's neck and looked down at him. "So, what now, Detective?"

"It can't _not_ be of any help – it’s the fucking government description of the case and what was done to solve it." 

Gustav hadn't meant to snap, but he did, and he craned to read the report. It wasn't _real_ helpful, but it reinforced the number of people thought to have been involved AND added that it seemed that the ages were diverse. So there was that

Georg sighed again and leaned back. "Maybe we should just forget about it. We're supposed to be on vacation and I can imagine more pleasant ways to spend our time. On the other hand… I'm indecisive today, it seems, but anyway. What's next on our list?"

Gustav was having a moment, and got up. "If you don't want to pursue it, then don't. I don't care. This IS supposed to be a vacation, after all and I don't have anything on my list."

_Except finding someone who does really care for me._

Georg looked up at him and blinked. "Okay," he said slowly. "What just happened?"

He stood up and looked at him, biting his lip, then sighed inwardly. He seemed to fuck everything up right now. He seemed to make men miserable, really. He'd broken Tom's heart a few days ago, he'd broken Gustav's heart before – and seemed to be on his way to doing it again. 

Maybe he should just become a monk.

"Nothing happened."

Gustav had to stop and take a deep breath – he sounded like one of those girls in a Lindsay Lohan movie, back when she made movies. These days, unless you counted videos of her court dates and entrances in and out of rehab and the county jail, there wasn't much to see of the girl.

He tried again. "Georg, we're doing it again. We're acting like there's something there, and for me, there is, and for you, there's not. I don't know why I'm not enough for you to take seriously, but I'm not and you can't seem to figure out what you think of me. So no more kisses, hugs, showers, or anything. I'm already getting stupidly emotional about you, and it’s not worth it. Not if you don't care enough to make a decision, and if you can't, fine. I love you. I've told you, you know that, and it’s out there in the wind. You either don't know what you feel, or DO and won't tell me, so…"

Gustav took another deep breath. "If you don't want to do anything about this jewel thing, then don't. Not like we both don't have enough professional successes already, and not like we have anything worth stealing. So maybe Michel is just what you need, or Tom was what you've always needed, or… whatever."

Georg looked at him for a long moment. "There is. There _is_ something there for me. But…" 

He sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, we probably should stop doing stuff until… well, until I'm… whatever, till I’m ready, or… or over Tom or whatever. I'm not interested in Michel. I'm interested in you, but I won't break your heart again, so I'm just going to stay away until I've figured out the mess in my head. But we should do the case. We've come so far already, it would be stupid to just dismiss it all now. So… what are we going to do next? Paolo's party? Or should we make sure we know whether the bracelet is real or not."

He nodded, hoping Gustav would still want him when Georg would finally figure out what the hell he DID want.

"Wait till you’re over Tom?" Gustav just looked at him. "I don't believe you ever will be."

He looked at the laptop, closing the page and going back to the Google results, spying a link. "There's an exhibit a couple of hours away of the other items from that estate. Wonder if those are real. Maybe it should be checked out; maybe the thieves weren't satisfied with only part of the haul."

Gustav stood up then and went out to the balcony to smoke, dismissing everything else. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Georg raised a brow and nodded. He watched Gustav for a moment, then really wished he had another close friend to talk to about these things. But Gustav was his best friend and partner and now love interest, and… wow. After years of no love and sex at all, this was really confusing. 

He sat down on the bed and waited for Gustav; that exhibit seemed like a good starting point.

Gustav wasn't ready for a while – he had months of non-lung-pollution to catch up on – but when he finally was ready to face the world, he re-entered the room and made his way into the bathroom, brushing his teeth for a good five minutes.

He changed into nicer trousers and a button-down shirt, just to not look like your average riffraff, then groaned at his hair all over again. He kept forgetting just how pink it was.

He waited for Georg then, feeling a weird sort of disconnect.


	26. Reconnaissance In Force

Georg glanced over at him on their way downstairs in the elevator, then paused. "Hey, how are we going to get there anyway? Cab or car?"

They stepped out of the elevator and Georg bit his lip, hating how things could just change between them from one moment to the next. It wasn't the first time that this had happened and he hated it. 

"I figured we could rent a car again. You can drive, if you want, or I can. Up to you."

Georg nodded. "Okay."

Gustav looked over at Georg, then stopped just outside the bank of elevators. "Geo, it’s okay; don't give me another thought, all right? We're fine, we're on vacation, and… it’s fine. K?"

Georg looked at him and frowned. "What are you talking about? Gustav…"

He trailed off and sighed softly. "Let's just forget about everything else until we've solved this case, okay? After that, we'll talk and I'll figure things out. Okay?"

He gave him a little smile. "Let's try to catch these bastards."

"What are you talking about, Gustav?" was a reasonable question, and sadly, Gustav had no reasonable answer. He'd meant to say for Georg to forget about him, about anything with him, but it hadn't quite come out that way. He sighed too, but nodded. 

Catching bastards was maybe the only thing he did well anymore.

He was talking with the concierge about a car when who should sidle up but the terrible twosome, Michel and Paolo. Both tanned, both insanely pretty and both setting his teeth on edge.

Well, okay, Michel mostly – he was eyeing Georg like he was a banana split with extra cherries.

A moment later, he heard Michel talking to Georg, and asking if he'd ever thought of straightening his hair. Gustav was going to have to punch him in the balls, soon, he knew.

Georg eyed Michel. "I do straighten my hair when I'm at home but Gustav made me leave my straightening iron at home," he said. "He's a fan of the curls, you see?"

"Oh, well, I can see the allure of both ways," smiled Michel, while Gustav fought the urge to roundhouse him. "You should see him at home, then," he managed, through gritted teeth. "It's halfway to his ass and totally faboo."

Paolo was beside Gustav. "Good morning, my flame-haired beauty," he said cheerfully. "Are we going out and about then?"

Georg scowled and turned to Paolo. "Yes, yes, we are. We're going sightseeing, so I'm afraid you won't get to ogle this "flame-haired beauty" today. But we will most likely make an appearance at your fabulous party."

He smiled and batted his lashes. 

GOD, that guy was slimy.

Michel noted Gustav's clenched fist, and smiled. Paolo had told him it was too much fun to bait this boy, and indeed, it was.

Paolo nearly clapped. "Oooh, yes? Excellent, I do look forward to it. And, oh, Monaco? Hoping to catch a glimpse of the royalty?"

"Nope," said Gustav, accepting a set of keys. "Just, you know, looking around. We'll see you soon, no?"

He gave Paolo a sweet smile, Michel a less-sweet one and they were on their way.

Once they were gone, Michel turned to Paolo, tugging him behind the counter. "You know what's in Monaco?"

Paolo nodded. "All too well; I think it’s time to corral these two before they fuck up everything."

Michel folded his arms. "Maybe they ARE sightseeing – come on, Paul, you know, people do take vacations."

"Not these two, Mike – I showed you their write-ups. Don't be an asshole. Do you think THAT Gustav Schäfer would dye his hair fucking pink for fun? No, he's playing a role. And while I think he had more brains in his left ass cheek than Pretty Boy has in his whole body, he's not stupid either. They KNOW. Fucking Clara and her need to show off!"

Michel bit his lip. "Road trip?"

Paolo smiled. "Bien sûr."

***

The car was a little dinky something, and Gustav gave Georg the keys. "Here, you drive, I'll navigate."

"Sure," Georg said, getting into the car. He adjusted his seat, then turned on the car, groaning when the music was... Death Metal!

"Just like old times," he said to Gustav with a grin, then drove off. "Do we have maps? You'll have to be my navigator because I have no clue where we're supposed to go."

Gustav couldn't help grinning – it was like this car had been programmed especially for him. "See, SOMEONE has taste," he said pointedly, then shook his head. "No. I know we go this way and there must be signs and… ask your psychic hair, huh?"

Georg grimaced but grinned, then raised a brow. "Dude, my hair may be psychic but it has no orientation. If I couldn't find my way home, my hair would definitely not be the... person... to ask, or something."

He snorted. "But following the signs seems to be a good idea."

"Your hair is falling down on the job," sighed Gustav. "But Michel wants to see it in all its glory, so maybe it will stop pouting soon and do its thing."

The signage, fortunately, was good, and they found their way to Monaco, and the museum with a minimum of swearing and grumbling. Georg parked, and they got out. "We're underdressed," Gustav said, looking around. "My rhinestone-encrusted bikini briefs would be right at fucking home here."

"You... you have rhinestone bikini briefs?" Georg asked, staring at him. Then he blinked. "Anyway. Where do we have to go?"

He looked around, sighing. "God, it's gorgeous here. Why can't the weather be this fantastic in Hamburg?"

He lit a cigarette and looked down at himself. "As for being underdressed? We're not the only ones." He nudged him and pointed at a group of people that were so obviously tourists it was almost scary.

Gustav looked back at Georg with his most innocent expression, then smirked. "I do have such briefs. Not that it would matter to you, cause I'm obviously not your type, having many years on your preferred kind of lover, but yes I do."

He slid his sunglasses back on. Why had he just said that? Maybe he was trying to get Georg to hate him. At least that, he could understand, get his brain around that emotion.

Georg gave him a look but then decided to just ignore him. Eventually, Gustav would HAVE to believe him how much he meant to him and until that time came, he would just have to ignore those remarks. 

Gustav swallowed, then quickly continued. "I know, right? We need to either import the weather or stay here forever, one of the two – and that guy should NOT be wearing leather.”

He shook his head. "Tragic. But shall we?"

He nodded at the square, unprepossessing building that unaccountably hosted some of the rarest jewels in the world.

Georg nodded simply. "All right. Let's shall."

He slid on his sunglasses and followed Gustav to the building.

Gustav bit his lip and muttered "Sorry," as they walked in. Maybe he should just head for the nearest bridge and throw himself off it.

Inside the museum, they passed through a metal detector. And then another, and then were eyed by uniformed guards who wandered around very conspicuously. Gustav was not fooled. The guards were too obvious and he would bet the cameras in this place were straight out of Bond's lab.

They checked out a few of the exhibits – the people, especially. THEY were the ones who should be on display, thought Gustav.

In the very center of the building lay the rest of the jewels from which the bracelet came, and Gustav eyed it, walking around from all angles. He wasn't an appraiser, but he'd learned a few things over the years.

Georg looked at it as well, wishing he could've gotten a better look at Eugenie's – or was it Clara's? – bracelet. Without having both bracelets here to compare, it was kind of hard to tell if this was real. It LOOKED real but if it was…

"Any idea?" he asked Gustav in a low voice – then realised that whispering might not be a good idea either ‘cause it looked suspicious. "It doesn't look as shiny as the other jewels here, does it? I think it's fake."

Gustav was thinking, which could either be a very good thing, or a very bad thing. "I'm not sure – I think… I think THESE might be fake."

His voice was low. "Something as old as these jewels should have marks of age, a loss of patina – these are too shiny. Wish I could touch them."

He was biting his lip, and looked over at Georg. "How limber are you these days? And no smart ass comments, thanks."

Georg raised a brow. "I'm very limber, thank you very much."

He eyed him. "Why?"

"No reason," smiled Gustav. "Just a random question to, you know, keep you on your toes."

He left off staring at the jewels, while in the security control room, Michel, aka Mike, watched him on that yes, Bond-worthy camera.

"He's plotting, that pink-haired fucker," he reported into his phone. "He and Listing."

"Of course he is - we're not dealing with an idiot here." Paolo, aka Paul, sighed, and batted away Genie's wandering fingers. "Is he just checking stuff out or..."

"He asked Listing how limber he was, so either he's planning on fucking him in some kinky way tonight, the lucky fuck, or... no. He wouldn't even try that, would he?"

"Yeah, I think he would. Jesus, Gene, give it a rest!"

Paul got up and stalked over to the window, thinking.

 

Georg looked up suddenly, then looked around. His hair was tingling – he felt like they were being watched. But he couldn't see anyone, so maybe it was a false alarm. 

His hair never _had_ false alarms, though. 

They were being watched. He could tell, it was probably the security guys or something. 

He turned to Gustav and grinned. "Are you thinking about kinky sex again, you pervert? I mean, honestly..."

He nudged him and gave him a look, hoping Gustav understood him.

Gustav didn't miss a beat. "I am, I really am. I figure this time, you can hang off the side of the bed and I can fuck you upside down, till you moan like a Dutch whore. I think that would be a test of your flexibility."

He wiggled his brows at Georg and they sauntered away to the coffee shop, where Gustav bought them big coffees and then walked outside to light a cigarette. "Psychic hair again?"

Georg snorted and followed him outside, lighting a cigarette as well. "Yes. Psychic hair. It was tingling. Someone was watching us – either on camera, or... I don't know. I think we were being a little obvious."

He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. "Okay, so we agree on the fact that the bracelet's definitely fake?"

"Of course we were being obvious," agreed Gustav. "Cause if someone IS onto us, it’s not gonna matter what we do, and if they're not, they'll just mutter "fucking tourists," under their breath and go from there."

Gustav sipped his coffee. "I'm pretty sure, but there's really only one way to find out for sure – tomorrow."

Georg nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."

He nodded and leaned against the building, taking a deep drag off his cigarette, then looked around. "So, do you want to do more sightseeing or should we drive back?"

Gustav snorted. "You have no idea what I'm planning, do you? Probably better that way."

He looked at his watch. "I want to see if Princess Caroline's hair is still falling out, and Grace's grave. After that, we can motor on home."

Georg eyed him. "Should I be scared?"

He grinned, then nodded. "Sure! Let's do that. And I want ice cream."


	27. Love And Other Drugs - Or Just Drugs

"I officially have nothing to wear," Georg complained as he looked at the pile of clothes on the bed. "So I guess this will have to do."

It was two days later, and the night of the party; the trip to Monaco had been fruitful in its way – and they’d found an amazing gelato place – but since then, they’d laid low, researching, tanning and avoiding any personal conversation whatsoever.

Georg glanced down at himself and nodded; it was the best he had. He was wearing tight jeans, a tight dark red shirt – which made him look kind of vampirey – and flip flops. 

Okay, so maybe he should wear different shoes. 

He turned to face the bathroom where Gustav was still playing with his hair, and posed. "What do you think?"

Gustav turned from the mirror, where he was busily spiking his pink hair in what he considered the gayest way possible, and shocking himself at how easily it was coming together.

When this was over, it was straight back into therapy. No passing GO, no collecting 200 euros. 

He looked Georg over. "You look good," he said honestly. Georg couldn't exactly look bad, but that was beside the point. "The tight everything says you know you look good, and the footwear gives you that little touch of insouciance, that "I'm on vacation, bb," look."

He sighed. "I, on the other hand, look gay. Very gay. I mean, fucking guys is one thing, and then there is GAY."

Georg smiled, pleased by Gustav's opinion. He eyed himself in the mirror again, then decided he was done, and flopped down on the bed and watched Gustav. 

He snorted. "I think you look cute. I like it. I'm liking the pink more than before, by the way. It faded a little, and this colour works much better for you."

He nodded, gave him a little grin, then glanced at his watch. "You gonna be done soon?"

Gustav raised a brow at Georg in the mirror. "So less flaming works for you?" He snorted, then had to admit, "Yeah, me too. I think this will be the best of it, actually, cause eventually, it will be like that baby pink color, and I'll have to get myself some gauzy wings, a wand with ribbons on it and a little Cupid diaper. Maybe that would be good for the first day back at work."

He grinned evilly. "Can you see Patty's face when I show up like THAT? Teach her to want to retire."

Georg started laughing. "Fuck, yeah, she'd love that. I would love it too, actually. So you totally should."

Gustav finally gave up. He had on black tank top that showed off his muscles, a pair of tight jeans as well, and sneakers, Converse, also pink.

Good lord. 

"I guess this is it, dude. I can't look at myself anymore without wanting to cry or decorate stuff."

Georg grinned, then looked at Gustav appreciatively. "You're gorgeous, though, seriously. Tank tops look hot on you. You should wear them more often."

He licked his lips, then stood up. "Okay, so... party time, huh?"

Gustav groaned. "Great. I can see the poster now. "Have You Seen This Fairy?"

He sighed and then gave Georg a smile. "I pale in comparison to you, but thank you. I figure I should accentuate the positive, however small that positive may be."

He sighed AGAIN. "Yes, party time. If that Michel rubs against you though, I'm gonna drown him in the hot tub."

Georg let out a very unmanly giggle, then snorted. "You don't pale in comparison. You look great, honestly."

He gave him a smile. "And I promise there won't be more rubbing than necessary. But it would be highly suspicious if we hated them – Michel and Paolo – now, after being all over them only a few nights ago."

He pushed himself up. "All right, let's go."

Gustav rolled his eyes, but had to agree that Georg was right – they couldn't act all standoffish now. It just wouldn't work for their schemes.

Whatever their schemes were; he had a vague idea, but the heat of Antibes seemed to be melting certain parts of his brain. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the most devious parts.

He sighed and held the door open for Georg, so as to better admire his partner's – yes, only his partner's, nothing else – ass. It was sweet, no matter who the fuck you were.

In the elevator, he caught a glimpse of himself. "Dude. I look like one of those little trolls that crazy old ladies carry to Bingo."

Patty had about fourteen of them, as he recalled.

Georg looked at him and grinned, then reached over and messed up Gustav's hair a little. "You do, actually! But the cutest one I've ever seen. Patty would love this look on you, seriously."

He smiled, then looked at him for a long moment as the elevator moved down. He really wanted to push Gustav against the wall and kiss him right now – but he didn't. With every day that passed, he became surer about his feelings for Gustav, and now knew that he was definitely in love with him. 

He'd actually known for a while. It had just taken some time to really sink in. 

The elevator arrived and they made their way outside, getting into their rented car and looking at the address.

"Patty would dress me in leopard-skin toga and no underwear and stand me on her desk," sighed Gustav. A moment later he grinned. "That's gonna be my fate, Hagen. A Gustroll!"

Georg cracked up. "Oh God."

Gustav snorted as they made their way out, and he let Georg drive ‘cause he suspected he might give Georg gray hairs if he continued careening around the narrow streets of the Riviera.

Michel and Paolo apparently SHARED a swingin' bachelor pad, which was interesting. "I am NOT going four-ways into this, even for a bust," muttered Gustav. "I mean, I do have standards. They may be painfully low, but I do have them."

They rang the bell, and were greeted by the lovely Michel. Who was wearing ass-less leather chaps. 

And that was all.

Weren't they on vacation? They were doing this WHY?

Georg stared at Michel and blinked. "Uhh... hello! We're here! Obviously."

He paused, not sure what to say. "Uhm, nice outfit? Very different from what you usually wear."

Paolo showed up behind Michel and grinned, smacking the other man's ass. "Doesn't he look fabulous? And so do you, Gustav. Mon Dieu, let me take a look at you."

He reached for Gustav's hand and turned him around, licking his lips. 

Georg growled.

"I KNOW," purred Michel, giving Georg an intimate smile. "And I love your bohemian look, Georg. Mmm, muscles..."

Gustav barely kept from throwing up in his mouth, but Michel was undeterred. "I know, it is, but I just found this so much fun, you know? And it certainly invites comment ..."

Gustav had a rejoinder for this – he SO did – but then Paolo was spinning him around and licking his lips, and Gustav forced a smile in return. 

"Is Mon Dieu good?" Gustav fluttered his eyelashes and took Paolo in. "And are those real jeans or are they just painted on? Mmmm..."

From behind him, he heard Georg growl, which only made the smile real.

Georg smiled tightly. "Thank you," he said, then watched Gustav and Paolo like a hawk. 

Paolo gave Gustav a wide, white smile. "Mon Dieu means My God, darling. So it was definitely a good thing, meant as the highest of compliments."

He looked down at himself and grinned. "They're real - but I did consider body paint."

He let go of Gustav and smiled. "Anyway, come in, come in! Join the party. Drink, eat, dance, flirt... have fun!"

Georg nodded. "We intend to," he said, then followed Gustav into the flat, while _Paul_ and _Mike_ exchanged a glance.

Gustav grinned back. "Why thank you," he said cheerfully, then walked with Paolo out into the house proper, making sure to wiggle… for Georg's benefit, if no one else's. "And body paint would have been so much FUN!"

Paolo laughed. "It would've been! But I was busy getting everything ready, you see? So I didn't have time to sit still for a few hours to get all that paint on – but maybe some other time."

"Ah, damn. Should have called me – I would have helped you, erm, apply the paint."

This was fun. It was _sick_ fun, but that was the best kind, in Gustav's opinion. And Georg was hating every second of it too, which gave him some perverse pleasure, too.

He was a bastard, he knew.

Michel, meanwhile, was courting Georg. "I have to know – is that hair real? Extensions? I won't tell a soul, but my God, if it IS real, I am so incredibly jealous…"

Georg stared at Gustav's ass, then blinked and focused on Michel. "Extensions? No, no. It's all real and natural and... yeah. Never dyed it, never let anyone touch it, except scissors about twice a year or so."

He managed a little smile.

At Georg's comment, Gustav turned and nodded. "He measures his hair with a micrometer when the stylist is done, and if more than an inch is gone, whoaaaa – he goes ballistic. He even shot someone once."

Gustav nodded, cheerfully uttering this boldfaced lie. Well… Georg HAD shot people, but not over hair. That he knew of, anyway.

He turned and walked backwards, ignoring the death glare he was getting. "I suggested highlights once and he took to his bed for a WEEK."

Georg narrowed his eyes at Gustav, knowing he was enjoying this FAR too much. He rolled his eyes and slid his hands into his jeans pockets. "He's joking," he told Michel who looked like he believed practically every word Gustav said. "I'm not really that bad. I'm attached to my hair, sure, but I wouldn't like, cry if it was suddenly all gone."

Paolo looked disbelieving. 

"Really!" Georg exclaimed, then glared at Gustav for making him sound like a complete pussy.

Gustav smiled brightly back at Georg, barely keeping from guffawing. At some point he would, he knew, but as long as he could draw this out…

"Are you sure he's joking? You look positively IRATE, darling," purred Michel, who wondered if the pink cherub _was_ joking. 

"Oh, he's attached, all right. But I suppose if worse came to worse and it WAS all gone, he'd survive. He'd cry a bit, take some sick time off work, look into extensions from Indian hair models, but he'd survive."

That caused him to launch into his "I will survive" Gloria Gaynor medley, which had been a hit at many retirements parties and propelled them into the party proper. Gustav had a pretty good voice – and he was loud – so his rendition was enthusiastically received.

Georg had been about to snap at him – even though he wasn't REALLY angry; just a little annoyed, but then Gustav started singing, and Georg just watched him with a small smile, all madness forgotten. He could never stay mad at Gustav for a long time. 

"So, guys," he said after a moment, turning to Michel and Paolo. "Do you have fabulous drinks at your fabulous little party? And Paolo, please; stay classy and close your mouth."

Paolo apparently didn't hear him because he just kept staring at Gustav.

Michel sighed. "He's infatuated, our Paolo is. Pinky has his heart under lock and key." He smiled. "Isn't love at first sight just magical?"

He smiled intimately at Georg, which Gustav luckily missed,’ cause he was shaking what Goddess gave him. He could never resist "Living La Vida Loca."

Michel watched him with amusement, then turned back to Georg, who was just so PRETTY. "I do have fabulous drinks, and the most FUN glassware ever."

He pointed to his penis-shaped stemware. "Cute, huh?"

Georg narrowed his eyes at Paolo who was dancing around Gustav like a back-up dancer in some weird little musical revue, then eyed Michel. "Yes, love at first sight is magical," he said, then spotted the penis-shaped glasses and resisted the urge to groan. 

"SUPER-cute!" he said instead, hoping his voice didn't sound as fake as he thought it did.

Paolo was a slut, thought Eugenie from where she sat on a couch near the sliding glass doors. He was HER slut though – he needed her, and she hoped he didn't forget that anytime soon. It wouldn't bode well for darling _Paul_.

She was already angry at him for being so indiscriminate – how, of all people to latch onto, had he chosen a cop? And not just any cop, either. Oh no. 

She knew all about Gustav, his partner, Georg, and their stunning record. She knew they were involved – or had been – with the pretty Kaulitz twins, whose stepmother she and Paul had robbed blind in Zürich, just before the Diarmid haul. They were in the US now, and no threat. She hoped.

For their sake.

She glanced over at Clara, who was keeping an eye on Mike, as well she should. He was definitely the weakest of the four – four, now that dear Jack was dead – and should Listing figure that out, things might get bad.

Well, they were already not GOOD – that little trip to Monaco earlier that week had her Very Concerned, and she hoped the cute little German boys weren't going to pursue this any further. 

For all of their sakes, really.

Michel, meanwhile, was beaming. "I know, right? What can I get you? A fuzzy navel? Sex on the beach? Maybe later, no? Ooooh, I'm naughty!"

Georg spotted Eugenie and Clara sitting there and gave them a smile, waving. He noticed the look Eugenie gave Paolo and blinked... then shuddered. It definitely looked possessive and sexual and... eww, no. He really did not want to think about THAT. 

Unless he needed to get rid of a hard-on in a hurry, in which case such an image would be invaluable. 

He blinked and turned back to Michel, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Michel was pretty – very pretty – but apparently not very bright, or he was really good at hiding his intelligence. But he was probably just a slightly dumb, pretty boy. 

And there was nothing wrong with that either; Georg just usually preferred his boys a little smarter. Like Gustav.

"You are being naughty indeed," he said with a grin, giving Michel a wink. "I think I'll have a Strawberry Daiquiri right now, and Sex on the Beach later?"

He smiled suggestively.

Gustav noticed nothing, as he was dancing… until he spun around and nearly wiped Clara out, landing on her lap, sort of. "Well, HELLO," he said cheerfully, righting himself. "You look just splendid tonight, Miss Clara."

She smiled back at him. "As do you, and how cute that you know my friends! But then again, Paolo goes on and on about you. We," she said, nodding at Eugenie, "have been here a while and become good friends with the boys, right Genie?"

Eugenie smiled. "Yes, lucky us. We get to see all the prettiest boys this way."

Gustav nodded. "For sure."

Clara's bracelet twinkled and Gustav reached for her hand. "You know, this is the most stunning reproduction I've ever seen; Geo and I saw the originals in Monaco the other day."

She blinked. "Oh, did you? Yes, they're amazing. I cannot believe someone had the audacity to try and steal those, honestly. What nerve!"

Eugenie smiled into her wine. "Indeed."

Gustav nodded. "Absolutely, but you know, people are amazing – the things they'll do in the name of base greed." He smiled sweetly, and got up. "Can I get you a drink?"

Hearing no, he simply nodded and got up, dancing back over to Paolo, then taking his hand over to the bar where Michel was mixing a daiquiri for Georg.

So WHO was gay here?

He asked Michel for the same, and then felt Paolo press against him.

Paul knew he should be focusing on Eugenie but right now, he was truly infatuated with Gustav – and a little tipsy already – so he couldn't make himself focus on her. Besides – it was his job to make Gustav feel welcome, right? Right. 

The fact that he was gorgeous and sexy was just a bonus. 

He slid an arm around him, nuzzling into the other man's body. 

Georg watched them and suppressed a growl, focusing on his daiquiri instead. Then he looked up at Michel and smiled.

Gustav knew he was pushing it, but sometimes you had to – maybe it was better when everyone in the game knew the players. But even though he knew the powers of Google-Fu, he wasn't aware of all the information available on him and Georg out there. As far as he knew, they appeared to simply be guys on vacation – like the Scooby Gang. He was Fred and Velma, and Georg was Daphne and Shaggy. They split playing Scooby 50/50. They never went looking for trouble – ha! – but if it found them, then, "Well, gang, we seem to have a mystery on our hands," kicked in.

Besides, he liked traps. Fred and his ascot got a little convoluted, but Gustav could follow along.

He didn't push Paolo away, but smiled and said thank you for the drink to Michel, eyeing him, then watching Georg smile at Michel.

Gustav wasn't drunk – yet – and hadn't initially planned to be, but Georg was looking at Michel with the same 'interest' that was causing a hard body to press against his own.

Paolo wanted him, and Georg didn't know what the fuck he wanted, so Gustav tossed down half his drink, strong as it was, and smiled over his shoulder at Paolo.

"So," he said, turning around. "Want to go out by the beach, get to know each other?" He tilted his head at Paolo.

Georg's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes, wondering if Gustav knew what kind of effect his flirting with Paolo had on Georg and was doing this on purpose, or if he really just liked flirting with him. He sighed and looked into his daiquiri, but glanced back at Gustav then and tried not to get angry. 

To make that possible, he drank. 

Paolo's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Eugenie hesitantly... but then looked back at Gustav and grinned. "I'd like that very much, Gustav," he purred, sliding a hand onto Gustav's hip. "Right now?"

All Gustav was really thinking was, "I want to see what Paolo knows, if anything," and "He wants me and isn't shy about letting me know. Hmph."

He looked up and caught Georg's glare and gave him a look in return, a look that said, "Do something about it then."

"Yes, right now. Surf, drinks, a beautiful boy…"

"And me," Paolo added, giving him a charming smile. Then he looked at Michel. "Make us some of your best drinks and then… I will see you later."

He winked and licked his lips as he looked at Gustav. 

Georg watched them and his hand tightened around his glass… then some more… and some more – which finally made the glass shatter in his hand, the daiquiri splash over everyone around, and left a nasty cut in his hand.

Michel, aka Mike, was not overly bright, but even HE could feel the ire in the air – when Georg broke the glass, he jumped, and then immediately grabbed for a bar towel to stanch the blood. 

The resulting cut was nasty, and Michel blanched, and then, since he was a sissy, he went to find Gustav and Paolo, finding them on their way to the beach, and about to get busy. 

"Your friend, Georg – he just – the glass shattered and he's bleeding and… and…"

Gustav blinked, then stood up. "Be right back," he murmured, then went back into the flat, where Eugenie was worrying – it seemed – over Georg's bloody hand.

Georg's fist was clenched – because he was still angry – and Eugenie couldn't seem to make him unclench. When Gustav showed up, Georg looked up, then blinked and glanced down at his hand, his eyes widening as if he was seeing the blood for the first time. 

He opened his hand and hissed at the pain that only registered now.

Gustav sighed and moved over to Georg, taking his hand and turning it palm-upward, looking at the cut. He shook his head, then asked where the bathroom was.

He dragged Georg into the bathroom, shut the door, and sat him on the sink, then carefully picked out the two shards of glass embedded into his skin, and wrapping them in paper before tossing them in the trash. He washed Georg's hand with soap and water, patted it dry, and then bandaged it. "It needs antibacterial ointment and I'm not holding. I could use lube though – got some of that."

Then he raised his eyes to Georg's. "So what was this about?"

Even though he thought he might know.

Georg looked at him and bit his lip. Then he stood up and pushed Gustav against the door. 

Gustav was tempted to push back, but his partner was injured. Stupidly, but injured nonetheless. So he let Georg manhandle him, and stared back at him challengingly.

Georg took a breath. "You. It was about you and Paolo going to the beach to do God-knows-what. I just… I got angry. I don't like the way he looks at you and touches you, and... fuck."

He sighed and looked down, then cupped Gustav's cheek and kissed him hard. 

"He looks at me like he WANTS me, and I don't have to wonder," Gustav started, and then was blindsided by the kiss, which lasted several more seconds than a mere angry peck.

But the moment was blown when Georg literally HOWLED in pain and not only nearly blew his eardrums out, but made the walls shake. 

"Jesus Christ!" Gustav sighed and reached for Georg's hand. "Let me take you to the hospital."

His lips were still stinging from the kiss.

Georg stared at him. "I want you. Okay? I want you. When all of this is over, I'm going to show you just how much I fucking want you, so please, try not to get TOO intimate with Paolo in the meantime."

He held his hand and looked at Gustav, then shook his head. "No. No hospital. We have plans for tonight. I'm just gonna find something to disinfect and bandage this and that will have to be enough. This is the only night for us to find out stuff about the case, so... yeah. I'm staying."

Gustav, stunned, opened his mouth to say, well, something. Anything. But nothing came out.

Instead he stared at Georg, then slid his hands onto either side of Georg's neck and kissed him on the lips. 

It was a slow, gentle kiss, and when he pulled back, he knew Georg had felt everything he had had to give to him in that moment.

"Vodka," he whispered. "Vodka will disinfect the cut and we can use another bandage, and..."

There was a knock on the door. "Georg? Georg, are you okay?"

It was Michel.

At the knock, Georg rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to announce that he was about to die in Gustav's arms, and instead just cleared his throat. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said weakly, still shaking from the kiss Gustav had just given him. He brushed a finger of his uninjured hands over Gustav's lips, and licked his own. "Tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, we'll... tonight."

He leaned forward and kissed Gustav again gently, then stepped back and opened the door, giving Michel a small smile. "Do you happen to have vodka and bandages? Dr. Schäfer here needs it to fix my hand."

Paolo, who had hung back, now appeared behind Michel, and since _he_ was not an idiot, sensed that something had just happened between these two. Something more-than-just-friendly.

So Genie HAD been right, and Schäfer was just fucking with him, and had no intention of... well then. Two could play at that game. And two would.

Michel could go to hell – he was Clara's problem, not his. His stupidity was her concern.

Michel was fluttering – he was the gayest straight man ever, and if it wasn't in his best interest to throw one into Clara from time to time, he'd probably be buying vases at IKEA as they spoke.

"Oh, of course! Has it stopped bleeding?"

“More or less," Georg said, looking down at his hand. "Let's just get it bandaged now – I don't want to ruin your brilliant party with my clumsiness

Michel bit his lip and fussed over Georg, while Gustav shrugged. "He's always doing shit like this – Tarzan knows not his own strength. But where were we?"

Georg smiled, then looked at Gustav before following Michel into a room to bandage his hand. 

Paolo eyed Gustav. "We were down on the beach about to get a little more… comfortable."

Gustav would later muse – at a time when he had nothing else to do but think – that it was Georg's kiss that had done it, knocked off his radar, stunned him into a sort of clueless fog. Otherwise, he would have known when to cut his losses and leave Vegas.

But for the moment, clueless was what he was. "Yes, yes we were. Michel, thanks for looking after Georg. He's a bull in a china shop, or a rutting rhino in Mikasa, pick your metaphor."

He smiled sweetly at Paolo and left with him again, leaving Michel to take care of Georg.

Paolo smiled back and took Gustav's hand as he led him back down to the beach, sending a wink to Eugenie to let her know that he wasn't going to do anything stupid. 

Eugenie hadn't missed anything, and would later watch and re-watch that kiss, along with Clara. The bathroom was wired, of course. Everything was, and she would be rather surprised that Schäfer hadn't tossed the place. He'd found all their bugs in the room, and she hadn't bothered replacing them, rather enjoying the challenge. But that kiss would be the hottest, yet sweetest thing her jaded eyes would have seen in a long while.

She watched Paolo take Gustav back out to the beach, and sighed. 

Outside on the beach, he leaned back and looked at Gustav. "So, darling. What have you been up to all the time? We haven't seen much of you and your... friend lately."

Gustav was sipping his new drink – that Paolo had provided him with – and smiled at him. "Oh, we've just been hanging around; shopping, and today we went sightseeing. Not too much on our agenda."

He made sure their shoulders were brushing.

"I see," Paolo said, smiling and watching him drink. "How long are you two gonna be here anyway? One more week? I may have seen that in Michel's little book at the reception..."

He licked his lips and smiled. 

"Oh, another week or so, yeah. You never know, I might find a reason to stick around." He looked down into his drink, then up. "Do you know of any reason I might want to?"

Paolo grinned. "Well, I was hoping you might want to stick around for ME, but I have a feeling your heart already belongs to somebody else," he said, pouting and batting his lashes.

Gustav's brow rose. "Who, Listing?"

He rolled his eyes and then smiled. "No pouting. He's a friend. We're here as friends, and if we weren't, then wouldn't I have bitch-slapped Michel by now? Hmmm?"

Paolo eyed him. "Well, your friend has been almost bitch-slapping me pretty much since he first set eyes on me, hasn't he? He hasn't been really charming at all. Maybe you're just much more patient, or don't see Michel as a threat. You shouldn't, you know? You're much better-looking."

Gustav raised a brow. "Me, better looking than Georg? No. No way. He's always been the prettiest. But he can dance with, kiss, fuck anyone he wants."

He meant to say that flippantly, but it didn't come out that way. Still, he went on. "But I'm out here with you, right? And wow, this drink is almost ALL alcohol. Lucky I have that stolid German tolerance."

He smiled at Paolo. "So what's up with you and the ladies in there, huh? Eugenie, is it? She never lets you out of her sight."

Only when it was said, did he curse himself.

"No, better-looking than Michel," Paolo said. "But... I suppose Georg, too, yes. And I happen to think YOU are the prettiest."

He smiled. "And yes, the drink is quite something, isn't it?"

He raised a brow and grinned, then frowned a little and eyed Gustav. "Does she? Well, you know how it is with those ladies. They can't resist pretty young things like us..."

"OHHHH," said Gustav knowingly. "Oh, well, maybe. You guys provide a lot of competition around here, you know? Good thing I'm not looking for anything, you know?"

Wow, his grammar and syntax were evaporating as fast as his drink was. Curious. He shrugged and finished it, feeling a sudden rush of... something. 

That was high-quality booze, all right, or something.

Something else.

And suddenly, Gustav knew that he wasn't alone in this game. Not at all. 

He collected his thoughts. "Well, who can blame them?" he said carefully. "I'd be eyeing you too. I AM eyeing you."

Paolo raised a brow. "Are you really? I don't think you are. I think you're eyeing your partner who will probably soon be MORE than your partner."

He looked at him with fake concern. "Are you quite all right? You look a little... flushed."

Gustav felt decidedly odd, and a little weak, even, like his legs might not hold him up if he stood, if he could stand.

"No, just my partner. In crime, and punishment, and stuff."

He closed his eyes, then blinked them open. "If you... wanted a roll in the hay, you could've... asked. Didn't need to fucking... drug me."

Where was Georg? He needed him, because soon, he wouldn't be able to stop Paolo from doing _anything_ he wanted.


	28. You're All I Can See

Inside, Georg was letting Michel bandage his hand, and gave him a smile. "Merci!"

Then he looked around. "Nice place, by the way. Have you lived here a long time?"

Michel smiled back. "De rien, and... a while. It's a sweet life, no?"

"It is," Georg agreed, still looking around. "All right, I should probably get back out there and enjoy the party." He smiled. "You coming? Wanna dance with me?"

Michel grinned. "I would love to dance with you, as long as you keep your eyes up here, babycakes."

He touched Georg's shoulder, then his hair. "So pretty."

Georg raised a brow and grinned. "Where else would I look?" he asked, wiggling his brows. 

He laughed, then followed Michel to the dance floor and started dancing, ignoring the pain in his hand and the increasingly bad feeling he had about Paolo and Gustav...

Michel was happy to just be dancing with Georg – happy enough to ignore Clara's death glare as they moved. For one night, since he got involved in all this, he was enjoying himself. "Problem" or not, Georg was gorgeous and he imagined himself on top of _him_ , not that cow, Clara.

Georg actually did enjoy dancing with Michel. He didn't want more than that, but dancing with an admittedly good-looking guy was always nice. It would be nicer to dance with Gustav, but...

After three more dances, Georg asked Michel to take a walk with him because he was beginning to get worried about Gustav. He spotted him and Paolo down by the water, and tried not to get too angry. He knew Gustav was just trying to get something out of Paolo...

Michel gladly walked with Georg, taking his uninjured hand in his and walking along the beach. "Paul likes your friend," he said, not realizing his slip. "Like, a lot."

"Paul?" Georg asked, honestly confused for a moment. "Oh, you mean Paolo?"

He eyed Michel, then looked down at Gustav and Paolo... Paul... whatever. "Does he?"

Michel instantly kicked himself. "Yeah, Paolo – I guess Paul is the American equivalent, no? I watch a lot of movies," he added with an ingratiating smile. "And I practice my accent on him. Like this."

He straightened his shoulders and dropped the REAL accent. "Yeah, like, my buddy Paul has the hots for your friend. Big time, you know? He'd do him in a heartbeat, probably right here on the beach, yo."

Georg raised an eyebrow and laughed. "That's actually a pretty good accent. Impressive," he said, nodding. 

Michel's accent WAS good. A little too good, if Georg was entirely honest with himself. He sounded like a real American – and the French accent varied from time to time. 

Hmm... odd. Very odd. 

Michel's words made his head shoot up and look down to where Gustav and Paolo were – but they appeared to be talking. 

"Thanks," smiled Michel, batting his eyelashes. "I work hard at it."

A whiff of perfume reached his nose, and he glanced down at the now-foursome and bit his lip. Was he supposed to seduce Georg here or in his room, or was he supposed to join them, or what?

Not for the first time did he wish his ADD wasn't so blatant. Damn.

Down at the beach, Gustav stared up at Paolo, but before he could do anything, Gustav was saved by Eugenie and Clara, of all people. Both of them were getting increasingly suspicious when their boy-toys didn't show up after a while, and went to check on them.

Eugenie was not happy, and she had to work hard to not show it. Clara, always wary of Genie in this mood, was on alert as well. 

They descended on the two younger men, and Gustav blinked, wondering if they were going to tie rocks to him and drag him out to sea. He wouldn't be surprised. 

Fuck, where was Georg? He tried hard to will him to come to him, help him out here.

Paolo sat up and looked up at the two women, giving them a questioning look. 

Georg noticed the women's sudden appearance as well and could feel that something was wrong. He squeezed Michel's hand. "Let's check what's going on there," he murmured, and pulled Michel down to the foursome. 

"Hey. Everything all right here?"

He looked down at Gustav and frowned. "Gustav?"

He knelt down next to him and frowned. "What's going on?"

Oh, thank fuck. And Goddess, her unicorn, Sally, and warm kraplach. Georg HAD come.

Well, arrived. Gustav giggled, then managed to look up. "Strong booze," he nodded. "I feel funny. Silly. Weak. Silli-ER. Kay? I need ta... go home."

Michel had a feeling this had all just gone wrong. Weren't they supposed to just get information from these guys? So what had Paul done? And why were their old ladies – and he used the term loosely – here?

Huh.

"Geo?" Gustav looked up with those huge brown eyes. "Help?"

Georg nodded, taking Gustav's hands and pulling him up. "Yes, I'm here. And I'm taking you home, love."

He eyed Paolo; he had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on here. He pulled Gustav up easily and wrapped an arm around him. "Michel – I'm really sorry but I have to take him back to the hotel. Great party, though. Sorry if we ruined it somehow. Ladies... goodnight."

He nodded at them, then glared at Paolo and took Gustav away – fast. 

Eugenie just glared at the others, and stalked back to the party, the others following meekly behind. Things were starting to Not Go Well At All, and Eugenie had plans for the pretty German boys. Big plans.

When they were safe inside a cab, he turned to Gustav. "Did he give you something? Dude, I'm going to kill him, I swear."

Gustav smiled dopily at the faces around him, and when they were in the cab, he leaned against Georg. "Roofie," he said, in a sing-song. "Mickey. Mickey n' Roofie, the twins. Thirteen and... fourteen sign of the bodiac. Sodiac. ZODIAC. Yeah."

Georg swallowed hard. "I am going to kill him. And I'm not going anywhere without my gun from now on."

"Me _neither_ ," said Gustav with much feeling. "Me n' Josie are tight. An' Michel is a fucking IDIOT. You hear me? FUCKIN' IDIOT. Also, not pretty at all."

He nestled into Georg. "I hate him. Kill him with a sausage for me, willya?"

Georg stroked Gustav's hair. "I also suspect our friends aren't called Michel and Paolo at all, but Mike and Paul." He raised a brow. "Michel – or Mike – really isn't very bright and sort of slipped. His American accent is also perfect, so... I don't think he's very French at all."

Gustav closed his eyes as they reached the hotel, then blinked as Georg tugged him out. "Ugh. Carry me."

He flopped against Georg, looking up at him.

"It should be forbidden to be this adorable," Georg said with a sigh as he looked down at him. He picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder, carrying him to the elevator, and only letting him down when they were in the room. He put him down on the bed and flopped down next to him, looking into his eyes. 

"Hey you," he said after a moment, smiling. "You wanna get some rest now?"

Gustav babbled on – something completely unintelligible, but cheerful, as he was carried upstairs by Georg. 

On the bed, he sighed. "Your ass? Is SPECTACULAR," he said earnestly. "I mean, its fuckin' gorgeous. An' I'm… bouncy."

Georg raised a brow. "My ass is spectacular, huh? Why, thank you! So is yours."

Gustav bounced a little. "Talk to me," he demanded. "An' I want to pet you."

He petted Georg's hair happily. "You lied," he said accusingly. "Tonight. You'd cry over this." He waved a lock at Georg. "Lying is... bad karma. You jus' tempted FATE, Hagen. Like, the Hair Gods. Yur in trouble now."

He smiled and stroked Gustav's hair back. "Bad hair karma, huh? I'm sure I'll be fine, love. And I was lying because I don't want them to know how attached to my hair I really am. You know? They might get stupid ideas."

He nodded, then moved a little closer to Gustav, smiling.

"I know, right? But I just got an awesome view," Gustav nodded, then sighed. Then scowled. "Anyone touches your hair, I'll beat them senseless, those assholes."

He sighed and looked up at Georg. "Did you wanna tell me somethin'? In the bathroom at Dickhead's? You wanted ta tell me somethin', didn't ya?"

Georg smiled. "Maybe..."

He touched Gustav's cheek. "But maybe I should tell you tomorrow cause I'm not sure you'll remember anything if I tell you now..."

Gustav was looking up at him, and smiled. "Tell me NOW," he demanded, still petting. "I'll 'member. I don' like not knowing stuffs, you know that. So tell. I'm paying attention an' everything."

He moved closer, snuggling.

Georg smiled. "Is that so?"

He leaned forward and kissed Gustav's lips lightly, looking into his eyes. "I love you," he whispered, and it was obvious that this was not just a friendly or partnery 'I love you'. 

It was a _real_ 'I love you'. 

"That's what I wanted to tell you," he said softly. "That I love you. I'm in love with you."

Gustav nodded, then listened to Georg – whatever had been given to him had a short shelf life, cause he was already feeling clearer. Either that was crappy stuff, or he was Superman.

Probably the latter – no, definitely the latter. Yes.

So when Georg said that to him, he wasn't floating (much) and he understood every word.

He looked up at Georg, and felt his throat close up, making it hard to breathe, but he managed. "You do? Really love me? Like, you're not telling me this to make me feel better or because you think you should love me? You just... do?"

He hoped that Georg knew that if he said such a thing, after all this time, and with all their history, that he had to mean it. He had to. Without reservation, without thought – he had to.

"I do," Georg said softly. "I wouldn't say this to you if I didn't mean it, Gusti. I know it would hurt you and... no. I wouldn't do that to you. I'm sure. I've been in love with you for a while and I don't want to wait anymore. I just... this feels right. It feels right, and I want to be with you."

He stroked his cheek.

Gustav managed to swallow, and breathe again, when he heard those words and saw the look in Georg's eyes.

Now, he knew, was the time for gentle kisses, loving murmurs, blushes and nudges.

He wanted to strip naked, scream and say "YES, YES, YES BABY, HEY, ANTIBES! HOTTIE LOVES ME!!!"

He wanted to go kick Michel in the nuts and push Paolo into the deep end of the pool, weighed down by an iron cocktail table.

He wanted to jump up and down on the bed, at the very least. But he settled for enthusiastically rolling onto a surprised (or not, given how well Geo knew him) Georg and snogging him absolutely fucking senseless.

Georg was surprised – but only a little. He laughed when he suddenly had Gustav on top of him, grinning into the kiss as he answered it, deepening it slowly and wrapping both arms around Gustav. 

His stomach was fluttering and his heart was thumping and he had never been this happy. Everything suddenly felt right – because it WAS. He was finally with the person he'd always been meant to be with. 

His Gusti.

Gustav was well aware of the cacophony going on inside Georg's body, cause his own was doing the same.

The kiss – kisses, rather – were deep, lusty and perfect, and when they both needed air, and possibly liquid, lest they die of dehydration, he lifted his head and looked into Georg's eyes.

"I love _you_ ," he said softly. "I don't think I've ever not loved you, since that first day at the Academy, when you pantsed our section leader. I saw that smile of yours, and I was gone. Plus, no one ever looked cuter waving plaid boxers at a crowd. And hearing you tell me you love me – seeing it in your eyes – you've made my _life_ , Hagen."

Georg looked up at him and smiled. "That long? Wow, maybe you should've said something a lot sooner. We could've been together for years. I think I've been in love with you for a while too. I was just... I still had Tom on my mind to realise it, you know?"

He kissed his nose. "But that's over now. There is only you – you and me."

He laced their fingers and gave him another smile, sighing happily.

"I never thought you'd want me." Gustav's voice was soft. "I mean, I realize I'm a lot to take, and an acquired taste at best, and I just never thought anyone as beautiful as you would be interested in someone as dorky as me. And then, of course, all the stuff with the twins and my little issue, and yeah."

_There is only you. You and me._

Gustav sighed too, and now, he did give the gentle kiss, the nudge and cuddle. He couldn't believe he finally had the one thing he had always wanted.

Georg.


	29. Gustav Forms A Plan & Georg Is Nervous

Gustav awoke in a position he could only later identify as 'corkscrewed." In fact, later, he would be unable to believe that he had untangled himself without the help of either the Jaws of Life, or at the very least, a licensed chiropractor.

It didn't help that Georg had him pinned. Hagen was heavier than he looked, ‘cause it was all muscle, damn him.

He finally managed to extricate himself from the pile of flesh and bone that was their naked selves, and get up to use the bathroom, wash up somewhat, then went back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Georg.

He felt like a different person this morning, he thought. He looked the same, probably sounded the same, but he wasn't.

This morning, Georg loved him. He loved HIM.

He lay back down and stroked Georg's hair lightly, off his forehead, running his fingers through the thick, slightly coarse, yet soft strands and studying every bit of the boy he loved. 

After a while, Georg stirred, sighing softly at Gustav's gentle touches. 

Then he paused, his eyes still closed. "You're watching me sleep, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice still a little hoarse. He finally cracked an eye open and looked up at Gustav, a slow smile spreading on his lips as he opened his other eye and looked up at Gustav adoringly. 

"Hey you."

"Mmmhmmm." Gustav didn't mind being found out – he'd watched Georg sleep through orientation lectures, sexual harassment seminars (unless they were led by Patty, in which case Georg was an enthusiastic role-player, prompting him to muse about maybe doing dinner theater in his off-hours), and stakeouts. In fact, he'd spent hours that HE should have been sleeping, watching Georg sleep. He couldn't help it. Listing was beautiful, and Gustav had always been in love with him.

He looked down at him now, and smiled. "Hey you, too."

He traced Georg's lips with one finger, wondering if he was going to turn all sappy and soft now. He didn't give much of a fuck if he did.

Georg smiled up at him, then pressed a soft kiss against the tip of Gustav's finger. "Are you going to kiss me now?" he whispered, resisting the urge to wrap his lips around Gustav's finger and sucking it into his mouth, which would probably turn him on, and they'd end up having sex, which maybe, they should wait with a little. 

Besides, they probably had Things to Do, the thought of which didn't stop his cock from hardening a little at the prospect of sex with Gustav. Mmmhhh...

"I might," Gustav whispered, glad he'd had the presence of mind to gargle before coming back in here, with cinnamon Listerine no less. 

"Do you want me to?" His voice was soft. "Because I really want to..."

He was getting hard too, just looking at Georg, touching him in these soft, affectionate ways. He also knew that they had Things to Do, namely, catch some sneaky fuckers. And, not incidentally, Paolo would pay for drugging him. Gustav had concoctions that could knock out a full-grown gorilla for days, so Paolo was going to not like his life sometime soon.

Maybe Gustav would pen HIM up with a full-grown gorilla, come to think of it.

Georg licked his lips and nodded. "I want you to. I want you to so much. So if you don't mind the morning breath..."

He gave him a little smile, touching Gustav's hand and lacing their fingers. He squeezed them, then slid his free arm under his head, propping himself up a little and looking up at Gustav longingly.

"Nah, I Listerine-d enough for both of us," Gustav assured him, then squeezed Georg's hand back, catching his breath at the expression on his face. It would take a while before he could believe that look was for him, about him.

He bent his head and brushed his lips over Georg's lightly, before closing his eyes and kissing him deeply.

Georg's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when Gustav kissed him with such emotion and passion, and his stomach fluttered when he started returning the kiss, sliding his tongue into Gustav's mouth and cupping the back of his neck. 

He could imagine waking up like this for the rest of his life.

Gustav moaned as Georg invaded his mouth with his tongue, loving this, loving how it felt to be so close to Georg, knowing he felt the same way about him as he felt about Georg.

They'd always been in sync, almost scarily so, and now, it felt like the last little piece of their puzzle had been found and slid into place. Now they were finally whole, the way they were meant to be,

Georg kissed him back for a long moment, then wrapped his arms around him and looked up into his eyes as the kiss broke. He gave him a sweet little smile and kissed his nose, his stomach fluttering. 

"Sorry it took me so long," he whispered. "I've known for a while that my feelings for you had changed – or maybe they didn't really change. Maybe I've always been in love with you, and it just took me years to realise it. But I was still in love with Tom and while I really did love him, he never would've had a chance against you. You and I... I think it was just meant to be."

He touched Gustav's cheek, looking up at him adoringly. 

"Do you want to get ready now? Take a quick shower, and..." He paused. "What's next on our agenda? We're gonna catch those bastards now, right? Or try to, at least. I need to fucking hurt _Paul_ for drugging you and trying to do God-knows-what to you."

He stroked Gustav's hair and kissed his lips again.

"It's okay," Gustav whispered. "Nothing good ever came easy or quickly, did it? And yes, it took a long time, but I can feel how sure you are now, and Geo, that's worth the wait. Having you be sure now is so much better than you just thinking it might be right a year ago or more. Do you see what I mean?"

He pressed his lips against Georg's temple. "Bill and Tom will be okay, I believe this. I actually think they'll be okay _together_." He paused. "And yeah, I mean that exactly as it sounds. Bill loved me, yeah, and I loved, love him, but he loves Tom more, more than he'll ever love anyone else. And I was okay with that, cause I knew what it was like to have someone else have a stranglehold on your heart, so I was able to take our relationship for what it was; two people who needed someone, who were attracted to each other, made each other laugh and had good sex. Considering how we met and under the circumstances that we became close, I really couldn't ask for more."

Gustav shifted so he was on his side, looking at Georg. "Maybe you and Tom were different; I think you two were deeper, somehow, cause neither one of you was as damaged as Bill and I. But I still think they'll be all right, as long as they have each other."

He sighed, then rolled over. "Oh, I have plans for Paul, trust me. I have some black-market Viagra that will make him want to cut his dick off trust me. And babe, I was a moron for going anywhere alone with him – I almost deserved it. But you had my back."

He kissed Georg back, sliding his hand around to the back of his neck and kissing him with a whole lot of emotion. Again.

Georg nodded. "I understand completely," he said softly. "Now we can be sure that it's actually going to work out, and that nothing can ever tear us apart again."

He smiled, then looked up at him intently as he listened. "I think they will definitely be okay," he said quietly. "The idea of Tom with someone else worried me for a while – I didn't want him to end up with some sort of wrong guy, you know? But I really do think the twins' connection is more than even THEY realised when we met them. So maybe they can comfort each other and get over us that way." He paused. "I make it sound like it's so hard to get over us. Maybe it won't be all that hard at all."

He raised a brow then and grinned. "Oh really? Black-market Viagra, you say? That sounds like something he definitely deserves."

He grinned and shook his head. Then it softened into a smile. "Of course, love. I always have your back."

He closed his eyes and kissed him back, then finally broke the kiss and took a deep breath. 

"Okay, I need a shower, and then we can have breakfast on our way to..." He paused. "Where are we going anyway? Are we staying here or going back to Monaco, or...?"

Gustav's lips were still stinging a little from the kiss, and so he was momentarily distracted. 

"Oh, well. Okay, first, I swept for more bugs here last night while you were in the bathroom, doing the daily. Found three, so they ARE persistent little fucks. But no, today we will lounge for a while in the morning, and shop and do everything that tourists do. If we see the gruesome foursome, we will smile winningly and go about our business. I got another email from our intrepid Patricia, and it's... interesting. Paolo and Michel, my ass."

He reached for his laptop and opened it, clicking on the email. "Also, apparently some idiot tried to hack our PD email addresses overnight, but Kenny in Tech managed to block them – I knew that kid was good for _something_ besides getting me smoothies. So they're onto us, and we to them, and the board is set and all that shit. But tonight, my young friend... tonight, we're going to Monaco for a little reconnaissance in force, as they say in the Clone Wars, which this kind of is, except Eugenie is Palpatine. Yikes."

"Three? Wow. Where did they hide them? They're definitely persistent – and thorough, aren't they? And they hacked into our email addresses? Seriously? Dude, is there anything they can't do? But good for Kenny – about time he proved that he's good for something."  
Georg rubbed the back of his neck. "So basically, we're gonna be tourists this morning and cops in the afternoon."

He nodded. "Sounds good. All right, so..." 

"They weren't very creative this time; under the lamp, in the bathroom fan and behind the mirror, which means they got an eyeful of what they couldn't have." 

Georg snorted. "That's very uncreative indeed. Dude. Even I could've found a better place and most of the time, I consider myself a very uncreative person." He paused. "Except when it comes to sex."

He wiggled his brows and grinned. 

"In that way, you are most definitely creative," agreed Gustav, remembering with a smile. "Dork."

He gave Georg a smile. "Remember when I asked you how limber you were?"

Georg paused. "Why do you need me to be limber?"

The thought made Gustav smirk widely. "You're gonna need to be limber because you're going to be slithering amongst lasers to get to that display case in the museum, where you are going to cut through the glass case that the presumably fake jewels are in and take them."

After listening to Gustav's plans for him, Georg's jaw dropped and he stared at the other man, sitting up. "Are you serious? Or what I should probably ask: Are you nuts? Do I look like I can do that? I mean... what if my hair gets in the way? What if I..." 

He trailed off. "I'm not as young as I used to be; I honestly don't know if I can do that. I know I was trained to do it, but..."

He sighed. "You really do think I can do it, huh?"

He rubbed his forehead and shrugged. "I guess it's worth a try. And then?"

Gustav grinned. "Yes, that's the scenario, and whether or not I'm actually nuts is up for discussion by the departmental shrinks at their twice-weekly cocktail parties. But I have my reasons."

He moved over to sit next to Georg and stroke his hair comfortingly. "First, neither of us are as young as we used to be. Second, you can do anything, I believe that. Third, you should maybe actually braid your hair or tie it up or something. Fourthly, I would do it if I could, but getting shot as many times as I have really fucked up my mobility, and besides, you are thinner overall. Fifthly, you will look so hot in that cat suit, that I might leave the cleaning crew something to remember me by. You can do this, love."

Georg stared at him. He'd followed him and had understood everything rather well. But then...

"A CAT SUIT?"

Gustav had thought a cat suit was implied, and so, stared back at his boyfriend.

His boyfriend; he could squee with glee, and probably would, once Georg was in the shower. 

"YES, a cat suit. You can't have loose clothes and stuff flapping around – it will trip the lasers, silly. You have to bind yourself up, so to speak. You will be the Catherine Zeta-Jones to my Sean Connery. I have the accent and the snarky sense of humor, and you have the great hair and pouty lips. Remember Entrapment? It almost made me change my religion, and then I realized she finds Michael Douglas hot, and nearly lost all faith in humanity. Remember how you nursed me through that, with lots of rum, and, inexplicably, devilled eggs. God, those were good."

Gustav sighed happily, remembering. "ANYWAY. You will look incredibly hot while you're being all heroic. Your junk should look even more awesome than usual!"

For a long moment, Georg looked at him as if he'd just lost his mind. And maybe he had. 

But then he had to grin. "You really wanna see me in a cat suit, don't you? And yes, I do remember that. It was a traumatic time for you but I think I got you through it all right. And I guess you do have a point. My junk will look amazing, and I have to wear tight clothes, so..."

He nodded. "Now, where do I get a cat suit now?"

Gustav loved it when Georg would give him his patented "Get the net" look, and loved it even more now, because Georg loved HIM now, and yeah, it was like that. He bounced. 

"I do, I really do. I'm filming it." He nodded, then shuddered. "I mean... Michael Douglas looks like a sack of flour that was raped by a savage hedgehog. What the fuck is she thinking? Ugh. But make sure you do, you know, tie your hair back and make yourself as, erm, slippery as possible. As to where you'll get a cat suit?

He smiled.

Georg grinned. "I will. And I have complete and utter faith in you. I know you'll manage to find a cat suit in freaking Monaco in no time."

He paused. "I could wear a diving suit, or whatever you call those. They're tight. Or I'll just strap my cock to my stomach and do it naked."

Gustav was about to answer when Georg said what he said and kind of short-circuited his brain. Oh God.

"That was just COLD, man. COLD. This is supposed to be Serious Business, and you talk about naked cock-strapping, you bastard. You and that fucking psychic hair of yours is just mean."

He looked down and sighed, then flopped back. "I could strap MY cock to my belly right now, damn you. But just so you know, I DO happen to know where I could find a cat suit in Monaco. I do my research, you know?"


	30. When A Man Loves A Woman - Or Another Man, Actually

Georg grinned innocently. "Sorry. And yes, I am aware that you're really great at research."

He pushed himself up, eyeing Gustav. "But for now? Think about that gorgeous cock of yours. Think about it in my mouth, cause that's where it's gonna be in a second."

He raised a brow at him and smirked, then moved on top of Gustav and slid down, pulling Gustav's legs over his shoulders. He kissed his stomach and nuzzled the soft, smooth, waxed skin above his cock. Then he wrapped his hand around it and locked eyes with Gustav as he slowly slid his mouth over the other man's cock, sucking lightly.

Gustav was speechless. He was, as they say, without speech. 

He had not expected this, and he just stared at Georg in total awe, then licked his lips as Georg moved him around to his satisfaction.

This man was _his_. He wasn't anyone else's, not anymore, and it would still stun Gustav for a good long time that Georg loved him, and didn't think about other people when they were together, just him. And when Georg looked down at him the way he was right now, it was enough to shut him up entirely.

He moved his hand to stroke Georg's hair gently and then moaned when the other man started sucking.

Georg spent the next few minutes giving Gustav what he hoped was the most amazing blowjob he'd ever given anyone before. He closed his eyes, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked and moved his head back and forth, relaxing his throat to accommodate all of Gustav's length. He used his hand to rub Gustav's balls between his fingers, then to stroke the base while he suckled on the head, his eyes never leaving his boy’s. 

When Gustav was close, Georg drew back a little and smiled up at him. "Come on, baby," he whispered. "Come for me. I bet you've thought about coming on my hair before... do it now."

Gustav fought between closing his eyes and keeping them wide, WIDE open so as not to miss a single, solitary moment of Georg sucking him off. And fuck, he was GOOD. 

Really good.

The best he'd ever had, in fact. And Gustav wasn't surprised.

It was nothing short of amazing that he hadn't come when Georg pulled off him, but when Georg told him to come in his hair, Gustav was sure he was gonna die, right there and then – because he HAD thought about that, about a million and nine times, and come to several happy endings based on that little fantasy, which was nowhere near as satisfying as this had been. Was. 

Roughly four seconds after Georg uttered those words, he had a mane-full of the best conditioner daiquiris could foster, and Gustav was laying there, moaning, a puddle.

Georg grinned; it took a lot to shut Gustav up, but sucking him off was apparently one way to do it. Odd, really; Georg had thought he would have to put his own cock in GUSTAV's mouth to keep him quiet, but apparently, it worked the other way around as well. 

He licked his lips because his hair and face had gotten a nice dose of Gustav's come. He smiled up at him and licked the rest of Gustav's come off his cock, sighing happily. "You okay up there?"

Gustav could only whimper – he didn't even have a suitable rejoinder, and honestly didn't know if he'd ever speak again.

He had killed a big-time drug lord, gotten shot, gotten hooked on coke, gotten clean, fucked a supermodel type, gotten a tan, dyed his hair pink, Georg loved him, and now he'd come in the Listing locks. Basically, his life was complete and he could die now. It would be a fuck of a way to go.

He looked down at Georg, his eyes huge and dark, and even he, with all his endless words, couldn't find words to tell Georg how much he loved him.

Georg had been about to repeat the question but the expression on Gustav's voice shut HIM up. He looked at him for a long moment, then slowly moved up the other man's body and kissed his lips gently a few times, then a little longer, making sure to pour every emotion he felt for Gustav into the kiss. 

Finally, he drew back and kissed Gustav's forehead, taking a deep breath, still overwhelmed by the strength of Gustav's feelings for him. 

"I should probably shower," he managed after a moment. "I've got you all over me."

He gave him a sweet smile. "And while I like that – REALLY like that – I don't think the other hotel guests would find it all that appealing."

Gustav wasn't aware of the look on his face, or in his eyes… didn't realize that it was one of the few completely unguarded expressions he'd ever let someone else see. 

His clown facade wasn't entirely fake – he used it, sure, to throw people off, make them laugh, make them regard him as less of a threat. He'd started doing that as a kid, to keep people from teasing him, to keep his anger down so that he didn't hit. But it was also part of his essential self at this point. 

He vacillated between silly and tough – often on a minute-by-minute basis – but rarely let anyone see his emotional self. Georg had seen it the day he took him to rehab, and Bill had seen it once, in group, but no others. So he had no idea the punch it packed.

The soft kisses almost made him cry, and that was something he didn't do easily, either.

"You do," he finally managed. "And fuck them."

Georg brushed Gustav's hair back and kissed his nose again. "Yeah, fuck them. But unless you want to see what I look like with really short hair, I better get it out anyway, cause it's gonna get hard and icky and... yeah."

He gave Gustav a little smile, then kissed the corners of his eyes before sliding his arms under Gustav and holding him close. "I love you," he whispered into his ear, wanting to add something more, but maybe a simple 'I love you' meant more than anything he could add to it.

"I have super-glue come? Is that what you're saying?" Gustav managed a tiny smile. "And I will love you no matter what your hair ever looks like. There is no way you'll ever not be the most beautiful man in the world to me."

He couldn't even be embarrassed that Georg no doubt tasted the salt leaking from his eyes when he kissed them – he could only wrap his arms back around Georg and hold him tight.

"I love you too," he whispered. There was nothing he could add, either. Nothing was big enough for what he felt.


	31. Croissants And Catsuits (Ears and Whiskers Optional)

Gustav finally was able to let go of Georg enough to let him get into the shower, while he sat there and pondered. He was hungry, and wanted breakfast, but knew enough to not order from room service at this point. Dammit, and it was so convenient. Of course, once "Paul and Mike" were in jail, room service could recommence.

He sighed and got dressed, in a simple pair of shorts – okay, so they had flowers on them and it kind of matched his hair – and a tank top, sneakers. Simple and timelessly elegant. Maybe they WOULD actually shop. He liked to shop.

When Georg came back out, he smiled at him from behind his laptop and cued up "Vacation" by the Go-Gos, then snorted at Georg's expression. "Mock me later – I needed some inspiration. So let us eat, shop, and be merry, until a cat suit be you in." 

Georg raised a brow and grinned. "And you will mock me when I'm in that cat suit; I can feel it. Or you'll ogle and molest me and we won't get our plan done anyway."

He slipped into his flip flops and tied his hair back. "All right – breakfast. Think Paul and Mike are gonna be there? Or Eugenie and Clara? I have a feeling they won't be as friendly today as they were last night."

He looked at his hand. "Also, you think I can actually do the whole laser thing when half my hand has fallen off?"

Georg tended to dramatize his injuries when they weren't really serious at all.

"Baby, would I do that?" Gustav grinned and powered down – after the song was over. "I will not mock you. I WILL ogle you, cause how could I not? And our plan WILL get down. You will not lose any part of your body to those lasers."

He hoped.

"And yes, breakfast. And I hope we do run into those fuckers. I will kill them with kindness."

Georg snorted. "I hope you're right. If not, I may have to refuse to ever go down on you again – which will be a punishment for you AND me. So... yes, you better hope that everything that is on me at present stays on me."

He nodded and gave him a little smile, taking his hand as they made their way to the elevator. "Kill them with kindness? All right then. Let's see if that works."

He grinned, and they made their way down.

Gustav was horrified. "You'd use sex as a weapon? Pfft. Now we know who the girl is."

But he wrapped his fingers around Georg's and felt the same warmth that Georg's touch always brought flood him all over again.

In the lobby, he smiled back at Georg, and exited. And who should be there at the front desk? 

Gustav forced himself to smile at Paolo. "Don't tell me you're serving as pool bartender today – I'll expect to see people dropping like flies."

Paolo grimaced, and Georg smirked. They, as in Paul and Mike, were probably not allowed to be rude or unfriendly to hotel guests while they were there, and it was obvious that Paolo wanted to say something but then bit his tongue before he could do it. 

"Good morning," he managed, his nose still wrinkled. "And I have no idea what you mean."

Georg snorted, then smooched Gustav's neck, giving Paolo a little grin. "Come on, love. Let's have breakfast."

"Didn't your mother – or Eugenie – tell you not to wrinkle your face? It might stay that way. And you know exactly what I mean. A cherry isn't always a cherry, is it? And also? Drugging people down by the water? Surely you don't have to go to those lengths to get laid."

He smiled sweetly and then nuzzled Georg back. "As for you, MIKE, sorry, Geo is now officially off the market. I'm sure that will make Clara – and possibly Pauly boy here – very happy ... now that your eye won't be wandering, and all."

He sauntered off, Georg in tow, to a cafe well down the street.

When they reached the café and had ordered croissants and coffee, Georg grinned at Gustav. "That was bitchy. I'm impressed. And also, you're really hot when you get all possessive."

He kissed his cheek. "So I'm officially off the market? Are you going to tell everyone we meet? Cause I kind of WANT everyone to know."

He nodded, giving him a smile as he sipped his coffee.

"Oh, I have not _begun_ to be bitchtastic. I have many tools in my bag, as you well know. I mean… not THAT bag, but my metaphorical bag."

He looked down at his twin gym bags and smiled, then looked up. "Yes, you are. You are officially mine, and I will tell EVERYONE. Actually, I will text Madam Patty, and SHE will tell everyone. Maybe we'll get a cake our first day back."

He beamed and buttered a croissant, after checking it carefully for bugs and other stuff.

Georg smirked into his coffee. "If you tell Patty, all of Hamburg will know. But that's fine with me, really. God, I miss Patty. She'll be so happy when she finds out. Don't text her, all right? We'll give her a bit of a heart attack by snogging and doing naughty things on her desk."

He grinned, then watched him with an amused grin.

Gustav started laughing, imagining her face if she caught them… yeah. That was definitely the way to go.

"You, my love, are a fucking genius," he managed, calming down enough to sip more coffee. "Just one of the many reasons I love you – the many, MANY reasons."

Georg grinned. "I know, right? And awwww, your brilliance is one of the many reasons I love you, too."

He sipped his own coffee and smiled. 

Gustav smiled back at Georg, finding that he was blushing; for the first time in all the years he'd been partnered with Georg, he was actually BLUSHING.

Oh God. He didn't know if he could handle being relationship!Gustav. All that crying and... blushing and iloveyoumorethaniwantobreathe stuff was gonna kill him. And here, he'd been worried about smoking. It seemed more dangerous things were out to get him then that.

They finished their breakfast in relative silence, both contemplating their love for each other, the events of the past night, and their plans for THIS night. When they were done, they got into their rented car and drove to Monaco.

Gustav let Georg drive, so that he could feel like The Man, then directed him to a small fetish shop, just off the beaten path. Inside, a wealth of toys, lotions, outfits, shoes and riding crops awaited. 

He leaned back in his seat and grinned at Georg, whose expression was classic.

"No," Georg said when he finally found his voice. "No fucking way. I can't go into a shop like that! I'm scared of shops like that! Don't make meee..."

He whined a little, then looked at Gustav who was smirking and looked determined. 

Bastard. 

Gustav couldn't stop smirking, he really couldn't; the look on Georg's face was priceless. "Honey, this is the best place on the shortest notice. It will be okay."

Georg sighed heavily. "The things I do for love..."

He unfastened his seatbelt. "All right. Let's get me a cat suit."

They got out of the car and entered the store. Just before they opened the door, though, Gustav whispered. "Will you get the little ears and whiskers, too?"

Georg stopped walking abruptly, making the door slam straight into his face. 

"Ow!"

He hissed and rubbed his nose, then glared and grumbled as he made his way into the shop, staring at Gustav. "Are you trying to kill me?" he whispered. 

He paused, then blushed. "But yes, I will, if you want me to."

So they were going to play Batman and Catwoman at some point. Awesome. 

More than ever before, Georg realised that his relationship with Gustav was never going to be boring.

Gustav tried not to smile, and petted Georg as they walked in. His boyfriend – boyfriend! – was the cutest, hottest, just most GUH thing in the world.

And he _really_ needed to stop speaking in tumblr-ease. It was getting embarrassing.

"I want you..." He paused. "...to."

Damn did they really have to catch EVERY crook? Couldn't they just go back to the clothing-optional beach and make love like mad seals? Would that be so wrong?

Georg glanced over at him and raised a brow, then laughed. "I know what you're thinking, baby, and yes, we do have to catch every little criminal cause it's in our blood and we can't NOT catch them, especially after getting this involved in a case."

He wrapped an arm around Gustav. "But after tonight, we'll make love on the beach every day – I promise."

"Goddammit," muttered Gustav, having forgotten for a moment that Georg could read his mind at times.

Then he sighed before looking up hopefully. "Do you _really_ promise we will? I mean, assuming they're not smarter than they look and kill us or anything. But if we live, you promise, right?"

“I really promise.” Georg kissed his lips, then smiled. "So, a cat suit."

Gustav rubbed his face, then looked around, trying not to openly ogle all the sights, and then spotted the red, sparkly cat suit. 

And smiled.

A worrisome, Cheshire-cat sort of smile.

Georg saw the smile and paused, looking around. "Oh god, not THAT one, not the red one."

"Not for tonight, but maybe later…"

Hope restored, he made his way over to the rack, and examined the suits. "I think we have to go basic black, but the red one is definitely coming with us. And look, here's pink..."

Georg then shook his head. "Oh no. Oh nooo, no, no, no, no. I'll do the 'Oops! I did it again' Britney Spears thing, but not pink. You look good in pink. I don't. So maybe YOU should get it."

He raised an eyebrow and grinned, then slid his arms around him. "Okay. One black, one sparkly red, one pink in your size... now we need the whiskers and ears, and... yeah."

"Okay," Gustav said finally, mollified, then enjoyed Georg's discomfort mightily as he had his little freak-out. "I love you," he said cheerfully, then chose the whiskers and ears, waving them above Georg's head.

Then he pulled out his phone and posed with Georg. "Say meow, baby!"

He clicked the picture and sent it to Patty.

"Meow!" Georg purred, then had to laugh. "God, we're such dorks. I really hope this works tonight. But hey, even if it doesn't, at least I'll have something sexy to wear for you."

He smiled. "Anything else you wanna buy? Oh, and hey, if Patty gets to see me as a cat, she should also get a picture of you in... this."

He put pink bunny ears on Gustav's head and grinned, taking the phone and posing.

Gustav laughed and posed for Patty, wishing he could see her face as she grabbed these.

Patty's phone beeped and she reached for it, bored – without the boys, retirement loomed large and she almost wished it was either today or the day the boys came back.

The pictures that appeared made her gasp, then crack up laughing, and most of the precinct was soon gathered around her desk, laughing with her.

 _"You two,"_ she wrote back, _"God I miss you! You look beautiful, and Gustav, is your hair PINK? I love it! Are you catching bad guys or just being idiots? Either way, I miss the hell out of you."_

Georg laughed and texted back. _A bit of both, as usual. We're getting ready to catch the guys right now, so wish us luck! We miss you hugely and can't wait to be back in about a week. XOXOXO_.

He grinned and shook his head, then looked outside, and then at Gustav. "Okay, we should get going. We can find another one of these stores at some point and buy more. For now... let's take the suits and get started.”


	32. Laser Games

Fifteen minutes later, Georg was in the car, trying to get into the suit and wished he'd tried it on before. When he finally stumbled out of said car, which Gustav had been guarding, the suit was ON, but it was tight. 

Very tight. 

Painfully tight. 

He was pretty sure he was going to lose one of his balls – or both – but... it was on. And his cock DID look huge in it, he noted with satisfaction. 

He tried to pull it out of his ass and grimaced as he looked at Gustav. "Good?"

Gustav had purposefully got out of the car to guard, after Georg had answered his offer to help with, "I fucking hate you, Mike, Paul, Genie and fucking CLARA right now. I hate you all. I'm never talking to you again."

Gustav was used to that. If only 90% of the people who threatened to not ever talk to him again, actually DIDN'T…

When Georg slithered – and yes, he did – out of the car, Gustav was caught between leaping on him and ravishing him, and laughing hysterically.

Laughing hysterically won, and thank God the car propped him up because otherwise, he might fall into the street and get run over by a fish truck.

Georg glared at him, feeling very, very insecure in his... outfit. Somehow, he felt naked, but at the same time like he was wearing the most ridiculous thing he'd ever worn before. And a small part of him even felt a little sexy. 

He just wasn't sure he was ever getting out of this again. Maybe Gustav would have to cut him out of it later. 

While Gustav laughed, Georg rolled his eyes and pulled his hair back into a braid, which he then rolled into a bun and made sure it was... secured. 

Then he put his hands on his hips and raised a brow at Gustav. "Okay. Am I good to go?"

"Dude. Dude. If you had an umbrella, you could be Dom Mary Poppins, with the bun. Oh my God. Oh God, I'm gonna pee. I can't... "

Georg raised an eyebrow at him and sighed heavily. "You know, if you don't want me to do the laser thing, I'm sure I can find a job at some sort of fetish club here. There are probably guys who are into the Dom Mary Poppins thing and..."

He tried to pout but Gustav's laugh was infectious, and soon, he cracked up too. 

"Oh, shut up, you."

Gustav got to his feet and moved over to Georg, sliding his hands up his hips and sides, fingers squeaking on the latex. He cupped Georg's face and kissed him, still giggling. "I love you," he said. "I really do, and oh God, you are the most amazing combination of sexy and beautiful and dorky that could ever be. I want you hugely - and you are also hugely... huge - and did I mention that I love you?"

He finally managed to calm down and sighed. "Oh God. Really. Okay now. Let's check out these floor plans again."

Georg moaned when Gustav touched him, and gave him a look. "If you're trying to turn me on, now is NOT the right time. If my cock gets hard in this, the suit will burst, so... don't. Just be... not sexy. I'm not sure you can do that, but... try."

He smiled and kissed him. "I love you too. And yes, let's."

He grabbed the plans from inside the car and put it on the hood of the car, leaning against it – his ass pushed out and on full display. He shook it a little, wondering if it looked good in the suit.

The thought of Georg getting that hard was unfuckingbelieveable and Gustav moaned too, before mentally slapping himself. And then _physically_ slapping himself.

"I'm never sexy at all," he grumbled, then laid out the plans, getting all serious – and then he groaned when he beheld Georg's ass. "WHY ARE YOU SHAKING IT? Do you want me to stroke out right now?"

Georg snickered. "Sorry. I'm just trying out how much I can move in this thing. I think it's gonna be really difficult. I have to be flexible but the suit isn't, dammit."

He glanced over at him. "And for your information... you're always sexy."

"But anyway," he said, looking at the plan. "Where do I get in, what do I have to do, Boss?"

"I know and I'm sorry. Maybe when you warm up, the leather will expand a little and you can get your flexibility back. I'm hoping there will be a discernible pattern and it it will just be a matter of moving around them, like in Wizard's Chess."

Georg looked blank. "Dude. Harry Potter? Sorcerer's Stone? The obstacles to the Stone? Oh my God. We so need a movie night. Emma Watson gets HOT, and you know me and hoochie hoos. Absolutely no interest. Anyway..."

"Ohhh... yeah. I think I read that book at some point. I've heard of it."

Georg laughed at the look on Gustav's face. "I'm kidding. Of course I know Harry Potter. I just don't remember all the details. Dude."

"God, thank God, I thought you were culturally illiterate."

They discussed what to do, and when darkness had fallen, they made their way to the museum, parking a ways away and finding one of the recessed fire exits to wait in.

They waited while the booming voice said the museum was closing, and then that it was closed.

Gustav took a breath. "Half an hour for cleaning and security checks, and then another five-ten minutes to get the guard in his room and things to go dead. I can't disable the lasers – I've looked and looked, but it's not a system I know well enough to not fuck up."

Georg swallowed hard and nodded. "So it all hangs on me." He took a deep breath, then hummed Queen's "Under Pressure". 

Gustav bounced a little, out of nervousness, and then slid his hand onto Josie, nestled in his belt. He listened to Georg hum, and smiled. "Babe, I would have done it if I could. Blame Marin for being a damn good shot, given the range."

He smooched Georg.

And waited.

 

"Maybe they're not coming," said Mike uncertainly. "Maybe they just said fuck it."

Eugenie snorted. "Not those two – I've seen bloodhounds who gave up more easily than they do. No, they're going to try something. Damn Clara for wearing that bracelet in the fucking Riviera! She's such a show off!"

Mike sighed and looked at Paolo, who looked annoyed. "Can we just fry Listing? Schäfer is cute."

"For fuck's sake, Paul," snapped Eugenie, getting up from her chair and moving over to him, trailing a red claw down his face. "Don't forget where your loyalties – and your funds – lie. They're both lovely men, but they're expendable. Trust me."

Mike didn't think so, and Paul knew better than to say anything, just kept his eyes on the monitor. "Maybe they'll wait. Maybe they really don't give a damn, Genie."

"Shut UP," she hissed, then made a satisfied sound. "Look."

The men looked, and Mike gasped. Whether it was the nerve of the move, or the sight of Listing in the hottest outfit imaginable, he didn't know, but DAMN.

"Fuck, they're doing it. Jesus." Paul shook his head. "Listing is gonna get sliced to bits." He looked at Genie. "Should we change the pattern?"

His hand hovered above the controls, but she shook her head. "Let them succeed – until the last moment. Just when they think they've done it? Change. When Schäfer moves in to grab Listing, they'll both go down. Painfully."

 

"Okay. The time has come," Georg murmured when... well, when the time had come. He pulled on his gloves and made sure his hair was pulled back, and then let Gustav open the door for him. He looked at the countless lasers and licked his lips, immediately developing a plan. He could get through this. He knew how to do this. He'd learned it years ago and still remembered how to move. 

"You can do it," he murmured to himself, then slipped into the room, looking for a way through the net of lasers. He needed a few minutes to take a calming breath, then took the first step and slowly made his way through the lasers and towards the jewellery. 

He wanted to look back and grin at Gustav because he WAS doing a great job here, but that would just distract him and he'd end up tripping. It was already hard for him not to trip on a _regular_ day, so he needed his full concentration. So he kept his eyes on the price, so to speak, and continued lifting legs and arms over the lasers and sliding over the floor like a pro.

Gustav hadn't breathed at all yet, that he could tell. He followed every single move on Georg's part, his throat dry, his heart pounding.

Georg was... he was everything. He was smart, he had no fear, he was loyal and beautiful and he had been Gustav's world for ten years now. If anything happened to him, he would...

Well, it would be something bad, he knew that.

When Georg reached the case, he watched him slide out the thin glass-cutter; the case had no alarm, as it was assumed no one could pass through the lasers.

He watched Georg cut the tiny hole, just enough to slide out the bracelet.

And damned if this wasn't hot as hell to watch.

When Georg finally held the bracelet, he allowed himself to grin – and breathe. He turned around carefully, making sure not to get anywhere near the lasers, and waved the bracelet at Gustav. "Got it!" he mouthed, then looked at the lasers again and resisted the urge to groan. 

He had to get back to Gustav, too. 

He thought for a moment, then knelt down and slid the bracelet over the floor to Gustav – none of the lasers were just above the floor, so that worked without a problem. When Gustav had the bracelet, Georg stretched for a moment, getting ready to make his way back.

Gustav let out a sigh, and let himself breathe a little. "See, you're good at this," he whispered into Georg's tiny earpiece and reached for the bracelet, scooping it up and sliding it into his pocket.

As Georg met his eyes, he mouthed "I love you," to him and gave him a thumbs up.

 

"Ugh," said Genie from her perch. "How bloody touching.

Mike kept his face turned to the monitor. He didn't want to hurt Georg, didn't even want to hurt the motor-mouth pink one. 

"Even if they DO show that the bracelet is fake, then so what? No one knows we have the real one..."

Paul sighed, then cuffed Mike, although not hard. "It doesn't matter. They – the authorities, the family – will start looking, and THEY know. Those two aren't just any idiots on the street – people will believe them! Do you want to go into hiding again? Cause I don't. I won't."

 

Georg smiled. "I love you too," he mouthed back, then closed his eyes for a long moment, focused, and started making his way back, his body executing the moves he knew he needed to do perfectly. He wondered how long it was going to take before his suit ripped over his ass – but so far, so good. 

When he was in the center of the room and in a more or less comfortable position, he took a brief break to catch his breath, then made it the rest of the way through the room, grinning when only two lasers were separating them.

Georg was amazing to watch, and Gustav knew the sight of his boy moving so fluidly, his body so strong, yet limber, would stick in his mind forever.

He had to grin in return when he saw Georg's smile... but his smile died on his face when one of the lasers inexplicably jumped and sliced across Georg's calf, causing him to yelp, then grit his teeth in pain.

Gustav immediately reacted, and grabbed for Georg's hand, just as another beam arced down and sliced Gustav just above his wrist, causing him to jerk his hand up, burning his hand – the smell of burnt skin filled the room.

Then it went black. Pitch black, and Georg dropped, the pain unreal.

This was not good.


	33. Night At The Museum

In the booth, Eugenie smiled – she had shoved that useless Mike out of the way and taken control herself.

Now, in the dark, her voice echoed. "I wouldn't move any further if I were you, boys." Her voice was silky. "Unless you want to lose a limb, but I rather think that might be all that allows you to understand just how wrong you were to fuck with me. Us, rather."

Georg was on the floor, trying to be quiet and not move, but it was kind of hard with the pain he was feeling. He couldn't decide if it was more painful than getting shot or not because for now, the pain here was making it hard for him to think at all. 

"Fuck," he hissed, realising that he could've burned much more off. He'd been under the naive illusion that those stupid lasers were the kind that triggered an alarm when he touched one - but apparently not. OBVIOUSLY not. 

He bit his lip hard, tasting blood as he tried to keep himself from howling in pain. 

"Gustav," he managed after a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Gustav grunted, even though he was in pain, too. He managed to sit up, just as the door opened, and small penlights revealed Thing One and Thing Two.

"Oh, wonderful," hissed Gustav, his pain momentarily forgotten. "You – I knew you two fucks were involved."

He raised his voice to make sure Eugenie heard. "Really, Cruella? _Really_?

A tap with something hard, yet pliant upside of his head made him wince, and he glared at Paul. "Nice. What did you do, watch old reruns of "Columbo?"

Paul sighed. "Shut the fuck up, Pinky."

He yanked Gustav up, and patted him down. "You smell nasty," he informed him, then smiled. "Oh, what's this? Pretty. Very shiny."

It was Josie, HIS Josie in that asshole's hand, and when Gustav lunged, there was another, sharper tap, and he went down, the black this time tinged with stars.

Georg glared when he saw Gustav go down, and managed to push himself up. 

Obviously, he didn't have a gun. Well, unless you counted his cock, but he was pretty sure he couldn't reach for that right now and shoot Paul with it. Unless you counted "shooting a load", and he wasn't sure he could get it up right now. The pain was intense and it just wasn't the right time for an erection and orgasm. 

He snorted inwardly, despite the situation, then went back to glaring at Paul. "Gustav is going to kill you when he wakes up. No one's allowed to touch his gun. And you'd better let us go. At the moment, you'll only get arrested for stealing - and possibly attempted rape. You don't want to add torturing cops to that, do you?"

Before either of them could say anything, Eugenie sashayed in - with the bracelet. She bent and picked up the fake one. "Well-made, but no – I think ours is so much prettier."

She looked down at Gustav, then at Georg... then delivered a sharp kick to Mike, who was staring down at Georg with a lovesick expression. "You are _useless_ ," she hissed. "Pretty, but empty-headed."

Then, she turned to Georg. "Hot," she said, licking her lips. "Sadly, I have no time to unwrap you, pretty Listing, ‘cause I have a plane to catch. But I do have time to do a couple of fun things, including tying you up, setting you down in the middle of this room, and letting the lasers do their job – slowly and randomly. Let Schäfer wake up - IF he does - to missing bits and pieces of his chunky little self scattered about."

Mike looked like he was going to pass out, and even Paul grimaced. "Genie, that's disgusting. Let's just fucking shoot them."

"Paul, where's your sense of adventure? They won't survive, and it will be slow and painful. They're not dealing with amateurs."

Long moments later, they were tied up, securely, Gustav still unconscious. Genie looked at Mike. "You stay and watch," she said, handing him Josie. "Toughen your sorry ass up. When they're dead, go to the rendezvous point, call Clara and we'll be off."

She touched Georg's face. "Pretty, pretty... should I take a souvenir, or not?"

Georg couldn't fight them; the guys were surprisingly strong, and with his leg hurting so badly, he couldn't seem to get free. Now he was tied to a fucking chair, and wondered if he was ever going to get out of here alive - and more importantly, get GUSTAV out alive. 

"For fuck's sake..." He turned to Mike and looked at him pleadingly. "Come on – do something! She's not your fucking boss. Just knock her over the head with something heavy and get us out of here!"

He bit his lip. "Please..."

Mike swallowed and looked at the floor. "I can't," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Then Georg looked up at Eugenie and glared. "What are you talking about?"

She sneered at both of them. "Jesus Christ, where in FUCK did Clara find you, Pussies-R-Us? Get out of my way."

Georg glared at her, and her face was right in front of his... and he instinctively spat in her face. 

Maybe he shouldn't have.

Eugenie recoiled. 

"Fucker," she hissed, then slapped him across the face, hard. "Just for that ... I was going to take a kiss, but I guess I'll take something both you AND Schäfer will miss."

She pulled out a small, silver pocketknife. "I was never a Scout of any sort but I do believe in always being prepared."

She reached and grabbed Georg's hair, tugging hard, pulling it out of its coil – and then with a few hard, sharp saws, severed it, then dangled it in front of him. 

"How sad... you’re just a little _less_ pretty now," she sighed, then gave him a smirk as she tucked the braid away. 

Mike had watched this in horror, but followed her out of the room, turning briefly to stare back at them; Gustav still slumped in his chair, and Georg... he couldn't even look at his face.

The door slammed and they were left in the dark, again.

Till one red arc appeared, cutting through the inky blackness.


	34. All That Glitters Is Not A Laser

For a long moment, Georg couldn't breathe, but when Eugenie was gone, he sucked in a sharp breath when the short strands of his cut-off hair fell into his face. 

He was about to freak out when he realised that his hair was the least of his problems right now. Soon, his _limbs_ would be cut off in a really, really painful way, and he wasn't going to let that happen – to himself OR Gustav. 

He tugged on the hard, scratchy rope around his hands and bit his lip in concentration as he tried to slowly slide his hand out of it. 

"Fuck," he muttered when it didn't work. He looked around for something - ANYTHING - he could use, and groaned. "Gustav! Gustav, wake up, for fuck's sake."

But Gustav didn't budge. 

He sighed again and let his head fall back, then took a deep breath and tried to pull his hand out again – and it worked, a little at least, despite the tightness of the bindings. He tried harder, and eventually, managed to get one free. There was only one laser moving around the room so far, and he realised that if he wanted to escape, he didn't have much time.

In the control booth, having been slapped again for his idiocy and for just being alive, Mike watched Georg. He watched him try to work his hand free, and then swallowed hard and moved one of the lasers over, enough to nudge against Gustav's foot in his heavy boot.

He was being watched too, he knew.

The sizzling sound the heat made against the leather jolted Gustav, and he blinked. Seeing this, Mike nudged the beam again, and this time, the resulting jolt roused him all the way.

"Wha," Gustav managed, then groaned, cause his fucking head hurt like never before. "Wha... Georg?"

In Genie's fun little scenario, they faced each other, the better to see what was happening not only to themselves, but each other.

He blinked, and blearily took in Georg tied up, himself unable to move, and Listing looked odd. "Geo," he managed again. "Where..."

Georg shook his head. "Later, babe. We need to get the fuck out of here before the lasers start. Can you get your hands out? I have mine almost out but the ropes are really, really tight and I'm not sure I can open the knot."

He inspected Gustav's chair. "Do you think if I fall over with the chair, it'll break? It doesn't look like the strongest, thickest wood, so maybe..."

He moved to the left, kicking himself off with his foot, then hissed when his left side hit the floor. 

The chair didn't break. "Oh for fuck's sake..."

Gustav closed his eyes, feeling nausea wash over him; whatever that fucker Paul had hit him with HURT, and he had to struggle to stay conscious.

He winced when Georg hit the floor on his hurt side, then gritted his teeth, stretching the ropes, but it couldn't quite...

The red light appeared again, and he looked up, swallowing hard. "Geo," he managed, following the light. "Can you... turn to your right a little and... raise your head and..."

He blinked and winced again, knowing he was going to vomit, forcing it down. He made himself look over as the light arced – then hit the tab of the zipper.

"Head UP," he growled, and Georg did what he was told.

The light hit the zipper tab and shot upwards.

"Right," he managed, and stretched his leg to kick Georg's foot, so he would roll – and the light moved across the ceiling and with a hiss and pop, exploded the lens of the primary laser, which rained glass down on him.

THEN he vomited, helplessly, cause Georg was hurt, he was terrified, and his head, oh, fuck, his head.

"Gustav," Georg said when he looked up. He groaned, then managed to slide his hands out of the rope, finally, and a moment later, he could slide out of the rope completely, and get to his feet – well, his knees. 

He crawled behind Gustav and untied him with some difficulty. "It's okay, baby," he murmured. "We're gonna get the hell out of here now."

He paused, looking up around the room, looking for cameras. "Do you think they're still here? If we want to get them, we need to move fast, but... fuck, we have no guns. They took Josie."

Gustav was heaving, his stomach killing him, and while Georg was untying him, he vomited again – some action hero he was.

When he was free, he blinked and nodded with difficulty; his hand and arm hurt like hell, and he remembered Georg's leg. "No, they... they're cowards, but... someone's gotta be... here."

He turned, his body feeling like it had been tasered (he'd once tasered himself by accident) and squeezed his eyes shut tight, then opened them again. "They took JOSIE?"

Despite his pain, anger flared. "They're dead. I swear to fucking God, they are and..."

He managed to reach out and touch Georg's hair, and _that_ , even more than his gun, pissed him off and he got to his feet as the secondary arc of light appeared. 

Georg's chair was still tipped over and he managed to pick it up and throw it at where he thought the light was emanating from, but wasn't.

For the next two minutes, he swung and slammed the chair into the four corners of the room, till finally, something gave way and the light hit the floor, burning into the tile.

With Georg's help, he wrenched a metal part off the chair. "The door... with leverage, we can force it."

Georg nodded and took a moment to rub his leg. He closed his eyes, then managed to stand up and ignore the pain. He pushed his hair back, then sighed when it fell back into his eyes. 

"Okay. That's it. They're dead."

He grabbed the metal part of the chair, and with Gustav's help, managed to get the door to open, and it slid unwillingly aside, allowing them to step into the cold corridor. 

When the door gave way, Gustav stumbled and fell against the wall, breathing hard, hoping he was done vomiting, but if he wasn't, he wanted to save it for whoever they'd left behind. Unlike the Bond villains, they weren't ones to leave a job to chance.

"Okay," Georg murmured, looking around. "Did you memorize the plans? Any idea where they could be? Like... where they could have been watching us from? Or maybe we should just look outside. Or..."

He turned to Gustav and cupped his cheeks. "Are you all right, baby?"

"Control room, and I don't know yet." He looked into Georg's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I always get us into shit when I should've just left this all alone."

Georg shook his head. "This is not your fault, it's–"

To their left, a door opened, and a scared-looking Mike appeared, with Josie cocked, ready… and aimed at them.


	35. The Road To Freedom Ends Abruptly

Georg blinked when he saw Mike, then pushed Gustav behind him, facing Mike. "Are you alone? Did the others leave?" 

He licked his lips, still keeping Gustav behind him, knowing that the chance of Mike killing HIM was much lower than him killing Gustav. 

"Mike," he said softly. "It's not too late for you to get out of this. If you give me that gun right now and tell us where the others went, you're free. You can run and start over, and won't ever have to think about this again. But please – don't do this. You don't want to do this."

Mike's hand was shaking, and he had to use his other hand to steady it. "No, I don't want to do this," he whispered miserably. "I don't wanna hurt you, but you... you'll tell, and they'll chase us, and me and Paul will go to prison, and... I can't. You won't let me go."

He stared at them. "Sh ... Genie... wanted me to kill you if you got out, an' she's watching, somehow, and... if I don't, she'll kill me, too."

Gustav groaned – partly cause this was so Movie Of The Week, and partly cause he still hurt like a motherfucker. "Mike, for fuck's sakes, you'd be better off in jail than with that bitch... you might even have a pretty cell mate, like Geo, here."

Georg paused. "Gustav does have a point, you know. Criminals tend to be kind of hot. We should know. We were dating twins who were a bit on the criminal side, and they were really pretty."

He shook his head; was now the time for small talk? "But honestly, Mike. We're offering you a deal here. You can get away. Paul – not so much. He hurt Gustav and actually tried to rape him, so... no. He's not getting out – but you can. Just lower the gun and give it to me. Please."

"You were?"

Mike seemed on the edge of asking for details, but stopped, his hand wavering. "I liked you, Georg," he said softly. "I wish you'd liked me too, but I guess you love Pinky, huh?"

He swallowed. "Paul killed someone in Zürich," he said. "And Genie watched. Clara is nicer. Not much, but some. And..."

He bit his lip, then clicked the safety on the gun. "I didn't want to hurt you," he whispered, then stepped close enough to give Georg the gun. "And you're still pretty."

Gustav wanted to grab his gun and cold-cock the guy, but they still needed him, dammit.

Georg took a step closer and carefully reached for Josie, taking her out of Mike's hand. He gave him a little smile and nodded. "You're a handsome guy, Mike, you'll find someone in no time, someone way better than those two old ladies and Paul, and possibly better than me. Just cooperate with us and you'll be fine. I promise."

He handed Gustav the gun and gave him a warning look. They did need Mike, and Georg really did think that Mike wasn't evil. Just weak. 

"Okay, where are they going? The airport? Are they armed? Where are they going? Maybe we should catch them when they get off the plane wherever they're going."

Mike shook his head. "I don't even care anymore." His voice was dull. "I'd be better off in jail - or dead."

"I can arrange that," snapped Gustav, stroking Josie, then shut up. He had to be calm, which was hard as fuck considering his physical state. 

Mike shrugged. "Go ahead, I don't care. And they're going to the States, California, wherever the fuck that is. And Paul has a gun – he's a good shot."

"Not as good as I am," said Gustav, already planning. "When?"

"Soon... midnight, at the Antibes airport. You better hurry."

Mike leaned against the wall, and bit his lip, and Gustav, taking pity on him, swiftly and expertly knocked him cold with the butt of his gun. It was better this way – he couldn't renege and warn the others, and when he was found, he could claim – rightly – that he'd been knocked out and wasn't responsible for anything that had happened. It was as kind as Gustav could be right now.

He winced, and reached for his phone, which, of course, was gone. Fuck. 

"Just leave him here, Georg," he said softly. "We have bigger things to worry about now."

Georg watched Mike, feeling sorry for him. 

He really wasn't born to be the bad cop, was he? He felt sorry for fucking criminals – or people who were weak enough to let others seduce them to do bad things.

Gustav nodded. "I know," he said, understanding what Georg felt – he really WAS a good guy, Georg was. It was him who could be the bastard, and not care later.

Georg shook his head. "All right," he said, running his hands through his hair and sighing again. "Okay, so, you're going to need to drive cause my leg hurts. It's probably a small airport, so I doubt there's more than one plane that goes to a Californian city, so if they're already gone, wherever they're going, well... we'll just have to get there faster, somehow."

He looked at Mike again, then nodded. "Okay, let's get out of here."

Gustav bent – slowly – and pulled off Mike's t-shirt, then his own, tossing his to the side. His shirt had borne the brunt of his stomach upset and he couldn't take the smell.

Redressed, he nodded along with Georg, reflecting that Georg had to be crippled to let him drive, and when they were in the car, he turned to Georg and touched his cheek. "I will buy you extensions," he said earnestly. "I will buy you the best that can be had, baby. What a fucking bitchy thing to do – she was just jealous cause you’re prettier than she ever was."

Georg looked at him with a little smile, smoothing the shirt Gustav was wearing. "It's tight. You should wear tight more often. It's sexy."

Then he looked into his eyes, melting and laughing at the same time. "That's sweet, baby. But I don't need extensions. Well, maybe. But I think I'll be fine. She was gonna kiss me at first – I'd rather have short hair than a kiss from that old bitch."

Gustav had pulled into traffic, speeding recklessly and not caring. He was on a mission.

Georg held on when Gustav drove them to the airport, fearing for his life – maybe he _should_ have driven, after all.

Gustav snorted. "I reek of vomit and you tell me tight is sexy. Remember this when you ask me someday why I love you. And... she was going to kiss you?"

He pondered. "Baby, you'd be better off with NO hair, than that. Ugh. I'm gonna make that bitch hurt, no joke."

"It's my own fault," Georg said, shrugging. "I spat in her face."

Several minutes later, they arrived at the small airport, and Georg jumped out, hissing a little when his leg brushed the car door. "Fuck," he murmured, then ran into the building. He really should've brought a gun. And fuck, he was still wearing that ridiculous cat suit, which was probably why people were looking at him oddly. 

Well that, and the fact that he was running around the airport like a lunatic moron. 

"That's Los Angeles, isn't it?" he said when Gustav came in as well, pointing to the screen with the list of flights. "When's it leaving?" He squinted, rubbing his eyes a little – he really DID need glasses.

Gustav was hot on Georg's, erm, heels. He'd forgotten all about the cat suit, and had he not been so pissed off and generally in pain, he would have laughed his ass off all over again. As it was, he DID smirk. He couldn't help it.

"That's LA, yeah... and honey, please, I won't love you less with four eyes, I promise. Get glasses, or contacts, Lasik surgery, something!”

 

How they made it to the departure lounge would later be the subject of urban legend, but one thing that WAS certain, was that when Gustav leapt on Paul and jerked his head back, the sound of his vertebrae cracking was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

The second sweetest sound was Genie's shriek when Georg got hold of her.

Fortunately, the airport security that had chased THEM through the airport had caught up to them, and Gustav had given them his badge number, the number to their precinct, and a short version of what was going on. The Antibes force eyed the cat suit suspiciously, but as it turned out, Paul was as big a weasel as Mike, but with less integrity; he whimpered under Gustav's assault and it didn't take long for him to start talking.

Georg let Gustav take care of Eugenie and Paul, and grabbed Clara, holding her firmly. Even though he didn't have a gun, it seemed to be enough because she couldn't fight him. 

"Now, darling... where is that bracelet, hmm?"

Clara tried to pull away, but even injured, Georg was stronger, and she whimpered. It was Genie who told him to fuck off, and Gustav who moved to yank HER hair so hard that half her weave came out. He waved THAT in front of her face, then searched her pockets and bag till he found Georg's braid. "This," he hissed. "Is not yours, you fucking whore."

Clara was, predictably, the second to break, and the bracelet was found in her carry-on, along with a lovely pair of earrings, and a matching necklace - all which were very familiar to the Antibes force. The false bracelet was found as well, and Gustav much enjoyed the frisking the three received.

Body cavity search, indeed, and the French police were not overly gentle. 

Still, he was pretty sure “Paolo” enjoyed it, the perverse fucker – which was a good thing, since the welcome wagon at most prisons weren’t particularly into niceties either.

***

"And that's how we caught the little fuckers," Georg said as he grinned into the phone, finishing his retelling of the previous night's events. 

Of course, the person on the other end of the line was Patty. 

"So the _flics_ took them to _prison_ where they're gonna rot. Mike got away, but I'm not worried about him. I think he just became a part of the group by being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and... he's a weak little shit who just hasn't figured out what to do with his life."

He beamed and leaned back. He'd told Patty almost every detail about what had happened – except the part about the cat suit, his cut-off hair, and his relationship with Gustav. He wanted to see her face when they told her those things. 

He inspected the bandage on his legs, then looked up and grinned when Gustav came out of the bathroom, still wet from his shower and wearing nothing but a previously white but now slightly pink towel around his waist. His grin turned into a smile and he sent Gustav a silent kiss. 

They had three days of vacation left, and were going to enjoy them and do nothing that had anything to do with police work. They were going to lie on the beach, get a tan, swim in the ocean, eat great food and drink greater wine, and have an unholy amount of sex. 

They deserved it.


	36. Epilogue - Some Things Change, And Some Things Stay The Same

Back in Germany, Georg and Gustav decided to split up. 

Not end their relationship, obviously. Georg would never ever leave Gustav again. They were partners, friends, lovers, for life. 

Because they both had stuff to take care of, however, they decided to go back to their own flats and run their errands, call their friends and families and see each other again at work on Monday. 

Georg was still sore from all the sex they'd had during their final three days in France, so he was more than okay with that plan, as long as it was only for a couple of days. 

Besides, he really did have things he needed to take care of. 

On Monday morning, just five minutes too late, Georg arrived at work, looking super-sexy, or so he hoped. In tight, washed out jeans, boots and a tight t-shirt and leather jacket, Georg strutted into the office, a huge grin on his face. He couldn't wait to see Patty – and Gustav's reaction to his new look.

Because Georg had gotten a bit of a makeover that weekend; his hair had been a mess, so he'd gone to the hairdresser for the first time in years, and had gotten an _actual_ haircut. He wasn't entirely happy with it because it was too short – but he had Eugenie to blame for that. But the hairdresser had done the best she could, and now his hair was about chin-length, with layers, slightly curly and very sproingy. He had a feeling Gustav would love it. 

His hair wasn't the only thing that was different. 

He'd finally given in and decided that comfort was more important than vanity, and gone to the oculist. 

And now he had a very fancy pair of black horn-rimmed dork glasses. 

He still looked hot, though – he hoped.

He approached Patty's desk, grinning when he saw Gustav approaching it from another side at the exact same time.

"PATTYYYYY!" 

Gustav had been busy that weekend too.

Though he knew Patty would appreciate His Pinkness, and that Georg found him adorable, he knew he'd never hear the end of it from his colleagues and had made his own trip to the stylist.

His choices in the matter were to get all the pink cut out, which would leave him with almost no hair, and given that Georg liked to pull on it, that was a no-go. Or, he could have it bleached. So bleached it was, and because bleach fried the ends, it also wound up short and spiky. He personally thought he was channelling early Billy Idol, but in the end, had to admit that he probably just looked dorky. C'est la vie and que sera, sera.

So he was blonde – very blonde, and wearing a tight t-shirt in black, jeans. Not a flowered print in sight. AND he had a cool Darth Vader glove on his burnt arm.

It was like the Terminator met the Cabbage Patch Kids and came up with him.

Anyway, he was only a few minutes late, and he missed Georg, and Patty, and had a tray of drinks as he walked in... then heard Georg's voice, grinned, and looked up.

Only the swift intervention of an intern kept them all from being spattered with smoothie.

Georg. Oh GOD, Georg.

He sat down hard on Müller's desk, ignoring his "Hey, fuck!" and stared at his always beautiful, yet brand-new boyfriend.

Patty looked up. Then stood up. Then sat down again, and STARED. She tried to speak, but squeaked. 

Then made no sound.

Then "GEORG? Oh my fucking God!"

Only Patty could get away with shouting 'fucking' and the Lord's name in the same sentence and not be struck by lightning and hailstones pelted by the archangels themselves.

Georg grinned and twirled around for them, making his hair bounce. 

"You like? The hair wasn't my choice because that old slut Eugenie decided to take my braid as a sort-of souvenir, which Gustav then took back, and the glasses were, unfortunately necessary, but as long as you like it, I'm happy."

He finally looked at Gustav, and was stunned as well. He licked his lips, then glanced at Patty, then shook his head and decided that the Big Surprise they'd planned could go fuck itself. 

Gustav hadn't said anything at all, but those who could tear their eyes away from Georg to look at him couldn't miss the absolute lovesick expression on his face; he finally swallowed, not seeing anyone else but Georg, and Patty, looking between them, grinned.

She'd been right. She had been RIGHT, and she loved being right.

So did Georg. "I'm sorry, but I kind of need to snog my boyfriend right now, so..."

He made his way over to Gustav, grabbed him, dipped him, and kissed him hard and probably very inappropriately. 

At least the whole office would know then, and they wouldn't have to be sneaky.

Gustav looked up at Georg, and let himself be dipped - and when he was kissed, he made a sound that absolutely _no one_ in the precinct had ever heard from him before, and slid his hands into Georg's hair, wrapping a curl around his fingers and closing his eyes.

Georg kissed him for a long moment - with tongue - then finally realised he hadn't breathed since he'd announced he was going to kiss Gustav, and drew back, pulling Gustav up with him. He looked into his eyes and smiled, shaking his head. 

"Pretty boy," he whispered, and kissed his nose, then faced a very speechless and wide-eyed office and a grinning Patty - which made him laugh and then address the rest of the office.

“Yeah, so there's something else that's new, and that's the fact that I finally came to my senses and realised that I'm completely and utterly in love with Gustav. We're an item now."

He nodded, squeezing Gustav's hand.

Gustav managed to smile back. " _Beautiful_ boy," he whispered back. "And how much do I want you, even sore, chafed and thoroughly fucked as I am?"

He smirked at the rest of the office denizens and Patty, who made HIM laugh too. "Fine, yes, go ahead and smirk, Patricia. You were right, okay? You were totally and completely right."

He listened to Georg, then nodded. "What he said, except sub in Georg for Gustav and yeah, that’s exactly how it is."

He brought Georg's hand up to his lips and kissed it.

Patty kept smirking, then raised an eyebrow. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right. So my plan worked out, huh?" She beamed. "Excellent. I've been waiting for this for YEARS, boys. Not just because I want pictures and videos for my own personal amusement, but because you two simply belong together. Took you both long enough to realise it."

She huffed, then leaned against her desk and watched them make doe eyes at each other. 

How she loved those boys. 

She walked over to them and gave them both a smooch on the lips. "It's good to have you back, boys. Now let me have a look at those smoothies..."

Gustav had to laugh. "Yes, your plan worked. We sat in the sun, and had unplanned sex, then fought, then got involved with jewel thieves, got propositioned, got jealous, then angry, more sex, more fighting and 'don't do it unless you mean it,' then... uhm, drugged by said thieves on the beach, declarations of love, stalking, capture, lasers, injuries, surprise makeovers..."

He reached over and tugged a short lock and almost came right there.

"... and then, uhm, vomiting, escape, chase, capture, lots of sex, food, booze, and here we are again."

Patty paused with her smoothie halfway up to her mouth and frowned. "You do get that vacation means relaxing for most people, right? Yours sounds fucking exhausting!"

Georg grinned. "It was. But wonderful – best vacation ever."

He kissed Gustav's cheek, then sighed softly. "I guess we should get back to work then, huh? Okay, fill us in, Patty. What's been going on here, and do you have an awesome case for us?"

Gustav grinned too. "Pat, for us, that IS relaxing. And we did get some good time in, both as friends, and then more, later. It was perfect, seriously. And we got some really terrible people out of circulation, so that was worth it. You did miss most of the pink hair though."

He smiled at the kiss. "I had to lose it, you know? But you have pictures I sent, right? So there is that."

Patty shook her head and sighed. "You two. ONLY you two would get up to stuff like this. But I assume there is no more talk of transferring or anything like that?"

"No. Not ever."

He looked at Georg and nuzzled him, then sat down next to her desk, pulling up another chair for Georg – he suspected even the Captain’s patience might be tested if Georg sat on his lap. But in their _own_ office, well....

"So yeah, Patty... tell us everything we missed – leave nothing out."

And she didn’t.

-End-


End file.
